So it’s the last day. The last night, to be specific. Suitcases are sprawled around the flat and we are lazily moving throughout the rooms, throwing old Q-tips into trash cans (litter bins), packing away our books, and deciding if we want to bring our favorite flavour of tea back to America.

Peter’s already gone, Sean is packing, and Jennie is at a play with her mom and friend who came to visit recently. I love her friend because she’s going into nursing and knows basically everything about medicine and health. It was like having a nicer version of House in the flat for a few hours. I began to ask her various medical questions about myself and people I know, to which she promptly gave detailed and intelligent-sounding answers.

I asked her questions like, “When I had kidney stones, why didn’t morphine work on me?” “My best friend’s mom had pneumonia recently. How does it escalate so quickly?” and “My boyfriend has exercise-induced asthma and he claims that exercise actually helps his asthma; is there any validity to that claim?”

It was fantastic. I need to find a nurse friend.

Also, I apologize for not updating recently. These last few weeks have basically been my internship full-time. It was bitter-sweet, leaving. I’m ready to go home, but I will miss all the children. The TA gave me a challenge to go around the class and say each of the student’s names. I did really well! And the highlight of my last day was when the quietest, shyest little girl in the class- who barely ever talked to me- came up to me before I left, raised her pretty, dark eyes to mine and said, “Miss, you’re kind.”

I felt my eyes start to water and gave her a hug. What an amazing experience the whole internship was!

The teacher shook her head as she hugged me good-bye. “I don’t know what we’re going to do without you!” she told me.

I stopped by the head teacher’s office on my way out to thank her for the internship. And I gave her a slice of angel food cake that I had brought in for the class. Sweets make an excellent thank-you.

These last few days I’ve been doing every thing one more time: I got my last coffee from Costa today; bought my last dress from Primark (yes, Mom, I promise my last one!); I went to Kings Cross to see platform 9 ¾ for the last time; I rode the cramped, over-heated tube for the last time; I got my last bag of candy from Tesco; I ate my last lunch in Hyde Park with the sun’s rays gleaming on the water from the fountain; I had my last glass of Pimms; I went to Portobello and Chapel market for the last time; and I listened to the different languages mingle into a chorus of sound while I walked down the streets of London.

Since I started this blog with a list, I figured I'd end with one, too.

So…

Thirty Things I Learned in Six Weeks in London:

1. The more variation in the fruit they put in the Pimms, the better it is.

2. Women in full burqas can actually have very impressive style; it's all in the accessories.

3. You will always learn the names of the worst-behaved children first.

4. The hummus from Hummus Bros is the best ever.

5. The Central Line is always the most crowded, at all times.

6. There will always be an escalator not working; chances are, it’s the one you have to go up.

7. How to try on dresses when there are no dressing rooms: wear a strapless dress, slip the store’s one over yours, and then slide off your dress so you’re just wearing the store’s dress.

8. Never, ever, look at a group of men when you pass by them.

9. A full English breakfast will ensure you don’t eat lunch.

10. If the play is good, you’ll forget you’re standing.

11. Only the black taxis are legitimate.

12. It is perfectly acceptable to steal Splenda packets from coffee shops; at least, I’ve never gotten in trouble for it :)

13. Hostels are not as sketchy as the movie made them seem.

14. Spicy food does really give you nightmares.

15. A sale at Harrods does not actually mean you can afford anything- except the ice-cream sundaes!

16. Horses in London will not flinch at a double-decker bus roaring past, even if you do.

17. Londoners do not believe in public toilets or litter bins.

18. You have more in common with people than you originally thought.

19. Kilts are very, very expensive.

20. Watching “A Very Potter Musical” on Youtube will quickly eat up all your megabytes, and it’s completely worth it.

21. Henry is amazing at writing poetry.

22. Sean is the best cook.

23. Jennie will physically shake when she gets excited.

24. Thanh, the fashion major, will always make the rest of us look poorly dressed.

25. James will only shave once a month.

26. Sarah will always be up for a book discussion- or any discussion!

27. Jenna has the most random stories.

27. The Janes will always find everything exceptionally amazing.

28. Scottish accents are the most entertaining to listen to.

29. I can not physically contain myself when in the presence of anything Harry Potter related. (Wait, I already knew that… :))

30. This is an amazing country with stories on every street, experiences within every echoing green, and memories in every moment.

And, to conclude… the last of the London pictures! (I will get around to putting them on Facebook next week.)

From the Jane Austen Tour: the chart which shows what different fan gestures mean.

Jennie in the garden in the Jane Austen Center.

Me in the garden; for some reason this photo wouldn't stay rotated.

Me in Bath!

Bath was amazingly beautiful that day. Jennie and I got ice cream and laid down outside in the sun-warmed grass.

Thanh left her shirt behind so James decided to try it on as a joke. There is a foot-and-a-half difference in their heights and a 100 pound difference in their weights.

So, naturally, he ripped it, to me and Sean's great amusement.

Jennie and I both had the day off from our internships and we went to Kew Gardens; it was gorgeous.

More prettifulness at Kew Gardens.

And more...

At Kew Gardens.

Platform 9 3/4!!!

Platform 9 3/4!!!!!

Scotland!

Sara and I breathlessly made it onto the train bound for Edinburgh a few minutes before it pulled out of King’s Cross station. As we took our seats, and the announcer bellowed out last call, Sara and I high-fived each other and prepared for the 4.5-hour ride to Scotland.

We had a few hours before check-in when we got to Scotland, so we went to the Edinburgh Museum and marveled at all the men in kilts on the way there. There was even one playing the bagpipes on a street corner. We heard a lot of broad Scottish accents and saw some really red hair- so many aggressively Scottish people.

We ended up going to Costa and chatting with the barista there. He had (obviously) lived in Scotland all his life and was asking us what we were doing in Edinburgh.

Me: “Well, we’re studying abroad in London right now but we’re just here for the weekend.”

Sara: “And we’re from America, obviously.”

Him: “Ah weel ee thought tha’ because ye were either frim America or Canada, but it’s great yee came tee Scotland. Any particular places yee looking for?”

Me: (very fast and excitedly) “The coffee shop where JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter.”

Him: “JK Rowling, yee say? Ah, she was here.”

Me: (gapes)

Him: “Ya, just over there by the window table. Interview or sometheen, few months back.”

Me: (stares and mouths wordlessly while hitting Sara on the arm)

Him: (amused) “She drinks a mediem coffee if yee interested.”

Me: (squeaks)

Luckily, Sara and I managed to meet some people during breakfast and one of them looked up the café on his blackberry for me. It was the called the Elephant House, and wasn’t too far from our Hostel- which was great, by the way. Our roommates were two lovely girls, one who lived in England and one from Japan who was studying abroad for a year in England. They were our age but had already finished university. We spent quite a lot of time passing around a carton of digestive biscuits and comparing and contrasting English and American life in profound emotional and cultural depth:

Jess: Well crisps to you in America are… chips, right?

Me: Yes, and you all call fries chips in England.

Imy: Do you have different names for the loos as well? Isn’t it a… a…

Sara: Bathroom, but you all also call them toilets.

Jess: When I visit New York, I see so many different names for cakes!

Me: Well anything sweet to you all is called a cake here but in America we have cupcakes and brownies and cookies…

Imy: Oh, those are called biscuits here. (waves carton of digestive biscuits)

Jess: What about boys in America? Are they like the ones over here?

Anyway, when Sara and I found the Elephant House, I had a fit. Sara had to pull me back from the street edge so I wouldn’t go dodging around the buses and taxis barreling their way down the (wrong side of the) roads. I was so excited that I kept exclaiming, “I’m so excited!” at an increasing volume and speed until I was squeaking incoherently while pointing ecstatically at the sign outside the shop, which read, “The Elephant House: The Birthplace of Harry Potter.”

Sara and I ordered and then got the last available table in the shop. It’s clearly a popular place and just as clearly God wanted us there (we got the last table!). I got a stack of napkins and Sara and I began scribbling on them, just like JK Rowling did so many years ago. I wrote the first paragraph of the first chapter of the first book (because I possibly had it memorized) on a napkin and even got to pin it up on their bulletin board! Amazing.

Sara went to the bathroom and encouraged me to check it out and to bring my camera. I was in awe. On the walls, countless people had written about Harry Potter. Some had written quotes from the books, either funny (“Go, go Gryffindor!”) or profound (“It is our choices, Harry, far more than our abilities, that show what we truly are.”) Others had written personal messages to JK Rowling. My favorite was, “Thank you, JK Rowling, for my childhood.” Then I wrote, “To JK Rowling, the author of my childhood: thank you for the wonderment of a new world.” I got all teary-eyed and had to leave, but not before I took a picture of the Harry Potter toilet. What an awesome coffee shop. I also made Sara go there with me on Sunday before we left, because I just had to go there again.

Monday: horrible boat tour to Greenwich (radio-recorded tour and discussions of utterly random things, such as Jack the Ripper, with Adam and Tahn), after which the Janes bid us take off on our own and see the amazing sights. They suggested the Royal Observatory, the Prime Meridian line, and several museums. So Sara and I, being the model students that we are, went off and shopped for a few hours, played around in the Astronomy Center (“let me have a turn at making the stars explode!”) along with several class groups of small children, and then got ice cream.

It turns out that Jennie and Amanda went to the same shop we went to and we all ended up looking similarly great for the play that night: The Holy Rosenbergs, which was excellent. It was about a Jewish family on the eve of their son/brother’s funeral (he died fighting in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in Gaza), and they have to deal with the fact that their family business is ending, the other son/brother is a complete failure, and their daughter/sister is investigating the dead brother for war crimes. Very real and touching with family drama and everything. (I had to write a review of it and I promise you it was more articulate than that last sentence :))

Another play on Wednesday, called War Horse. I cried. And gasped and yelled and laughed along with everyone else in the audience. No wonder it won so many awards. If you can create a mechanical, life-sized horse that can be ridden by a person around the stage and act like a real horse to the point where you forget it’s not… then you’re pretty much amazing. Although the sounds for the horses weren’t that great; they should have had me do them. Occupation found.

Excursion to Oxford on Thursday, upon which all us dedicated Hokies discussed how difficult it would be to transfer there. We had a self-confessed crazy (or “mad” as they say here) tour guide, who explained to our bewildered group that we might “see some students getting pelted with utterly awful things but don’t be alarmed! They’re just finishing their exams and that’s how they congratulate one another.” We didn’t necessarily believe her until we watched one girl shake up a bottle of champagne and, with a wicked grin, spray the entire thing on a fellow student who was already covered head to toe in silly string. “You made it!” she cried in a strong English accent while the now-dripping boy grinned sheepishly and we snapped furtive pictures.

Internship all day on Friday. I’ve learned more of the student’s names, but only the ones that constantly get in trouble; the teacher’s always yelling at them, so hearing their names called out in an angry accent twelve times an hour really helps memorization.

Today (Saturday), Sara and I went to Greenwich and hit up a few shops while browsing through a market that had set up in the middle of the square. We went to different stands and ended up in the food section. We each bought a cupcake and munched on them while walking through Greenwich. But then all the icing fell off of mine in a messy, pink splat onto the sidewalk. I stood there for a few moments, looking sadly down at the ground and then back to my now ruined cupcake. Sara told me I looked like a small child whose ice cream had fallen off its cone. Nice to know I’ve matured over the years.

Also, there’s a girl here (Jenna) who’s even more experienced than I am at horseback riding, and she, another girl (Elizabeth), and I are seeing if we can somehow ride in London. And Jennie and I are planning on going back to the Jane Austen museum (!) next Sunday and having tea with Mr. Darcy (!!!).

All in all, things are going well here. Despite the indecisive weather, 3 pound cups of fruit, and absurdly large amounts of tea, London is still pretty enjoyable.

Also, I went on an amazing run in Hyde Park the other day. I looked up at the sky shooting down thick, golden lines of light and thought: you can find God in every country of this world, in every sky.

Love you all!! :)

Scotland was beautifullllll!

 Told ya

More proof :)

"I'M SO EXCITED!"

 Me, dying to get inside.

Inside The Elephant House.

Enjoying over-sugared coffee in THE BIRTHPLACE OF HARRY POTTER.

I know, I know, I was surprised too!

Odes to JK Rowling.

The napkins!

What I wrote is above the 3 line, dark black writing in the middle and to the right of the "Harry!" under the "RIP Gandolf."

My napkin on The Elephant House board! "Mr. and Mrs. Durlsey of Number Four Privet Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd except to be involved with anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense." -The first paragraph of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, written on napkins, as JK Rowling did so many years ago in the Elephant House.  (And a Harry Potter elephant asking, "I'm a wizard?")

Sketchy, blurred picture of kilted man in Scotland. I just had to take it!

 Adam and I on the boat tour to Greenwich.

 Sara and I didn't want to pay to go to the Prime Meridian so we estimated where it was.

Our fantastic, eccentric Oxford tour guide. 

Oxford's motto: "God is our light."

Ridiculously beautiful school. But for the tuition they charge they should have constant rainbows and leprechauns running around and handing out random pots of gold to all the students. 

Right before the champagne. But you can see the silly string!

Hello All!

Week two in London and I feel like I’ve been here two months already.

Tour of Westminster Abbey on Monday, during which it rained in typical London fashion while all my classmates grumbled under weeping umbrellas about how Blacksburg's weather had followed them across the Atlantic.

I liked St. Paul’s better, in all honesty, because in Westminster Abbey our tour guide mentioned the royal wedding every five minutes along with unrelated, gruesome facts inserted at random moments:

“And here is where Kate and William entered to say their vows… and on your right are the tombs of Bloody Mary and her sister, Elizabeth.  Sibling rivalry at its best, in my opinion! Anyone care to guess which one beheaded the other?”

Although there was an interesting part in the Abbey called Poet’s Corner, in which a lot of famous poets, playwrights, and basically the best writers are buried/remembered: Jane Austen, the Brownings, Chaucer, etc.

Poet’s Corner actually gave me an idea for a project here. In addition to completing four other assigned projects, we get to choose our own personal project. And, since we are mostly English majors with creativity akin to a hyperactive squirrel bouncing and bounding around in our cortexes, we jumped at the opportunity.

I decided to take famous poems from the famous poets buried/remembered in Westminster Abbey, keep the opening and concluding lines and the internal structure, but change the majority of the internal wording into my own work. Example below:

Original Work:

Sonnets from the Portuguese 43 by Elizabeth Barret Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

My Version:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee with the light and color and sound

My heart can feel, when seeing the wonders

At the ends of this world and the next.

I love thee to the expanse of the night’s

Most endless dark, by the stars and the silences.

I love thee luckily, as men strive for Hope.

I love thee endlessly, as they turn from Time.

I love thee with a soul put to use

In my past pains and with my present faith.

I love thee with a love I never seem to lose

With my lost griefs, -- I love thee with the spirit,

blessings, trials, of all my life! – and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death. 

It was a lot of fun to write this poem. Also not a lot of effort – which is absolutely an essential attribute of any work I do in college :)

Monday night: we went to Blithe Spirit, a play about a man haunted by the ghost of his first wife, to the immense displeasure of his second wife. It was great. I thought it portrayed the relationship between men and women very accurately. For instance, the second wife was furious about the whole ordeal, while the husband took on an injured, hopeful look when telling her that it was quite an interesting situation and they should make the most of it.

How many times, I ask you, has a woman deemed something profoundly wrong while the man is blissful and content with the situation? (Basically flat? Inside joke to family members.)

Internship on Tuesday, which was quite nice. Despite pushing at doors that needed pulling to open (and vice versa) it was actually a lot of fun. I was there for five hours (8am-1pm) and it felt like 20 minutes; the time flew by in a blur of adorably accented, uniformed children, aged five to six, who found me most interesting.

Teacher: “So we are soooo lucky. Miss C has come here from far away just to be here with us for the next five weeks-”

[Thinks to self: well, that’s not entirely true… there’s the shopping, and the tours. And the food, and the shopping. And the studying- wait, no let’s be serious here and omit that. Also, Chunky’s been enjoying himself immensely in London…]

“- and she’s come here from a very, very long way away. Can anyone guess where she is from? Has anyone heard her accent?”

[But I don’t have an accent, you all do! I wish I had an accent. Must work on that. Note to self: add ‘developing accent’ to to-do list.]

“She’s from Australia!” pipes up one of the miniature English people, the collar on his shirt uneven and poking his ear.

[I am? Where on earth did he get that? I can’t even attempt an Australian accent except when imitating the narrators on National Geographic.]

“No, not from Australia,” I say, enunciating my non-accented accent.

“AMERICA!” yell the other 29 students, with such enthusiasm it would appear they were from there themselves.

As enjoyable as the internship is (and I am having so much fun there despite the labyrinthian layout of the building), the children’s names are insanely diverse and complicated. At my last internship, there were 16 children in the class with names ranging from Alex to Katie to James. In this class, there are 30 children. There is one Sarah, but there is also Amour, Suheila, Azhar, Oumaamah, Jibril, and Abdirahim. I kid you not- all the names are like that. In my notebook, I’ve written how their names sound with hyphens to help with pronunciation. The teacher will say one of their names and I’ll jot down notes like “Pigtails, tendency to craw under tables” “glasses- looks like Harry Potter” and “the one always getting yelled at.” I feel awful that I don’t know all their names yet, but I’m only working 15 more days there. By the time I figure them all out- putting unfamiliar faces to names I haven’t even figured out how to pronounce- I’ll be leaving for America!

What is nice about the internship is that the teacher is giving me free reign. The building used to be two different buildings: a primary (elementary) school and also a nursery school. Now the building is combined, so they have toddlers as well as students all the way up to year six, which is like our fifth grade. I’m in year one, which is like kindergarten. The teacher said if I ever get too bored in her classroom (full of tiny English uniformed children who ask me if they can run to the loo or throw their tissue in the litter bin!), I’m welcome to go around to other classrooms- even the nursery! So tiny, stumbling English toddlers or talkative English kindergartners?

Too. Much. Cuteness.

Full walking tour of Bath on Wednesday: It was an audio tour of the Roman Baths, so you go around with a radio, cell phone look-a-like thing attached to your ear while entering buttons on signs to hear the history of whatever sight you’re currently looking at. First there was the introduction spiel:

“Welcome to Bath, an area with 2,000 years of history rooted in mystical goddesses and ancient waters” or something to that effect yada yada yada tune out tune out tune out- “for the childrens' tour, type in the numbers on the orange signs and allow your child to experience the wonders of the ancient Roman Baths through an interactive and entertaining tour, complete with fictional characters and games.”

Hmmm. Tune in, tune in, tune in.

I looked around furtively. My fellow classmates and professors were looking down at the baths with pensive stares while listening intently to their no-doubt educational and informative adult tour.

Making sure no one I knew was looking at me, I typed in the number on the closest orange sign with such stealth that I may have well been entering my pin number.

“Welcome! I’m Polonius from a few thousand years back and I’m one of the people in charge of taking care of the Roman Baths, a place to kick back and relax with hot water and good company. Come join me, and I’ll show you around! Do you see that model over there by the wall? Can you spot all the men in green tunics? They help keep this place clean for everyone. Enter the number of green tunics you see into your audio phone, and I’ll tell you if you’re right. And after that, I’ll introduce you to my good friend, Titus, and he’ll tell you all about the people who built this place by crushing and carving huge rocks!”

Best tour ever, I thought to myself, and made my way to the model of the baths so I could play I Spy with the men in the green tunics.

But the best best best part of the day happened before the tour of the baths. We had a few hours to kill before the tour, so Amanda and I went to the Jane Austen Museum (yes, yes they have one!!) which indulged all the different parts of me: the English major side of me, which devours everything book-related; the Pride and Prejudice fanatic side of me, which gravitates towards anything Mr. Darcy-related; and the romantic side of me, which adores all things love-related/tragic/containing period dresses.

And afterward, Amanda and I had tea. In the cutest little tearoom I have ever seen. We had crumpets with cream and jam, along with a special Jane Austen tea brew. And our table was UNDER A PICTURE OF MR. DARCY.

I told Amanda that this could only be made more perfect and cute if tiny kittens were rolling around with balls of yarn by the table legs.

The London Eye on Thursday night (tonight): If you haven’t seen the London Eye, it’s a Ferris Wheel roughly four miles high, which sways dangerously above the Thames River while its riders clutch desperately at its flimsy structure of loose screws and wires.

Okay, maybe not. But I have a fear of heights, people. Try to sympathize.

I first saw the London Eye last week. I waved carelessly at it and declared that it was the most frightening ride I'd ever seen and that I would never ride it in a million million years, not even if you paid me and that I was so glad I wasn't going to ride it and-

"But we are going on it," replied Tahn, looking surprised.

Pause. Blink. What?

"Next Thursday, I think," she said. "...you look worried. Everything okay?"

Flash-forward to tonight:

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“What did you have for dinner? Oily foods are most likely to come back up again.”

“Oh thank you, Sarah, that’s very encouraging.”

“What did you have?”

“A pita wrap with hummus, salad and olives.”

“Oh boy.”

“AHHHH. Who put this on the itinerary? Where are the Janes? I want to talk with them.”

“Monica, we’re still in line, calm yourself.”

[mutters to self] “I should have brought Chunky.”

Tahn appears. “So. How are we doing?” Cue encouraging smile and sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Sorry about what I said last night by the way.”

Sarah: “What’d you say?”

Me: “Oh she showed up in my room while I was complaining about having to get up at 6am four days in a row, and she was like ‘Well cheer up! We have the London Eye tomorrow!’ At which point I buried my head in my pillow and she said, ‘Oh… were you the one that was scared of heights?’”

Well, I didn’t throw up, or pass out, somehow, which was encouraging. It took far too long to make a full rotation though. And they didn’t stop the ride when you had to get on! The wheel just keeps going and you have to jump from the landing into the giant glass capsules while the whole thing slowly rotates. Someone in the group shouted “MIND THE GAP” when we all jumped across.

I still need to get that T-shirt.

Scotland this weekend, during which Sara and I will be touring Edinburgh, which you know, just happens to be THE PLACE WHERE JK ROWLING LIVES. No big deal, just saying. I’ll (God willing) be having coffee where she WROTE THE FIRST DRAFTS OF HARRY POTTER. ON NAPKINS.

Life goal complete.

And of course, pictures of this past week below!

 Travis, the seagull that Amanda and I fed most of our lunches to while narrating the whole event in Australian accents as though we were on Animal Planet.

 The Jane Austen tearoom :)

 Mr. Darcy, who joined us for tea!

 The most adorable tea table, complete with crumpets.

 The entrance to the Roman Baths, looking up, obviously.

 The Baths. I spy... tourists!

 Prettifulness at the Baths.

 Squinty eyes. It was sunny.

 God being awesome.

 More prettifulness. If you look closely, there are ladders on this building with angels climbing to heaven. The guy that built the place saw it in a dream and created it... Yes, I do occasionally listen to our tour guides.

 It really was beautiful in Bath.

 Pictures of Chunky upon request! Here he's wearing a Fez cap thing that Sara bought.

Chunky minus the Fez. 

 The Fez again! Plus this Dr. Whoo screwdriver thing that has no relevance to me but Sara's obsessed.

 We have potlucks every week, which are surprisingly good. Who knew college students could cook?

Right before The Eye. 

 Tahn and I right before the Eye.

 On the Eye. Proof I was there!

 "Monica, pretend to freak out, you know you are already!"

Flushed and trying not to pass out. It was rather frightening at times and I was one of the first people off. I'm glad I went though; I didn't want to chicken out.

All of us!

 Tahn and I. I feel like a giant next to her. She's like Chunky's height. 

I'll be without internet for the next few days while in Scotland because I'm not taking my laptop, so don't freak out if I don't respond to emails until Sunday night!

Love you all!!!