Everyone in my travel group is out pubbing tonight, so I finally have a bit of free time for myself.   I’m glad.  So much has happened over the past three days, and I just want to let the wonder of it all sink in.

Where to begin?  How to describe London?  It’s a bit different than I thought it would be, but certainly not in a negative way.   I guess I never pictured the buildings so close and haphazardly placed and the roads so small and winding.  I almost feel claustrophobic!  I long to step back and get a clearer view of the whole city.  Maybe I’ll bite the bullet and take a ride on London’s Eye.   The buildings are absolutely beautiful, though, and the people seem very friendly.  I’m a bit disappointed; the longest talk I had with a British person was on the airplane from Phoenix.  Now I’m around Americans all the time, and I worry that I won’t hear enough of that charming English accent to let it really sink into my ears!

My favorite building of all is probably the Parliament Building.  Its sheer size is overwhelming, and I love Big Ben.  I’m sure it’s going to stick in my consciousness as the symbol of London (in much the way that I’ll always remember Florence for the Duomo).  I also enjoyed trotting past Buckingham Palace today.  Well-dressed ladies in feathery hats and suited gentlemen were being admitted through the gate for a garden party with the Duke of Edinburgh.  Imagine!  It was so posh.   I absolutely love the funny little hats and feathers that the English ladies wear in their hair.  I’ll have to bring something like that home with me.

I feel like I’m rambling.  Maybe I should start from Day 1 and give you a quick narrative of my trip so far.  Here are some excerpts from my written journal:

“My international experience truly began as I checked in for my London flight at the Phoenix airport.  As I lugged my bags through the lines, I heard literally dozens of languages and accents.  It was thrilling!  A security guard complimented me on my brawn when he saw how heavy my carry-on packs were and asked if I was European (are the two related?).  That made me laugh, but I was mildly flattered all the same.

I was a bit disappointed when I found that I was in seat 25H on the flight while the rest of the scholars were in row 52, but that emotion quickly gave way to pure delight.  Firstly, all of the airplane staff had authentic British accents (the man who served me meals kept calling me “my love!”), and secondly, I discovered that I had been placed just behind first class in an impossibly spacious exit row.

The most charming discovery of all was my row partner, though.  He was quiet and reserved at first, but as soon as I asked him a question, his colorful personality emerged and I found that he was the perfect, gracious British gentleman.  He became incredibly talkative and interested in my trip, but not in an annoying way at all.  He’s a physics teacher and amateur dramatist who always dreamed of living in America as a boy.  He’s actually lived in Phoenix for several years now with his American wife, but he still has a thick British accent (“The American ladies love it!”).  We talked for probably two straight hours.  I’ve never met anyone so genuinely jolly and endlessly courteous.  We shared all sorts of stories, and I discovered that he traveled America by greyhound bus as a young man just as I’ll be traveling Europe by train!  He gave me several travel tips (“Always come to the airport looking posh—they may upgrade you if you smile nicely—and then immediately put on your slippers.  Foot comfort is primary.”) and told me a bit about Vienna and Salzburg.  I can’t believe the man left Europe for Phoenix, of all places!  But he claims to love America, and he says he admires the confidence displayed by American females.  (Just an interesting side-note:  I mentioned that my family had visited Nauvoo over the summer, and he knew exactly what I was talking about.  His mother-in-law is LDS.  Small world!)   I was so impressed by him; if all British people are refined in this kind, unpretentious way—I’m going to love my time in England!  I couldn’t possibly have asked for a better introduction to Great Britain.

The flight itself was very nice, too.  The staff spoiled us with a full dinner and breakfast plus snacks and several offers of coffee and tea.  I slept for four straight hours, watched a couple of movies, read the letters that my sweet parents had hidden in my luggage, and wrote in my journal.

When the plane landed, the kind British man (Dave was his name, by the way) gave me his “card” and told me to call him if I ever needed anything.  I soon met up with the other scholars.  The four of us made our way through passport clearance and found our driver waiting for us with a sign.  I got to ride in the passenger seat, which was quite the experience.  The driver noticed me cringing and groping for the non-existent steering wheel on the left side of the car, and decided that I was a naïve American.  He proceeded to “enlighten” me in an interesting Israeli-British accent.  He told me that, in England, “diapers” are called “nappies,” that “strollers” are called “buggies,” and that “shrinks” are called “psychiatrists”—all extremely useful tidbits.  J  He then began comparing New York to London (since I’ve obviously lived in New York my whole life, being American and all).  The Big Apple is the only US place our driver had ever visited, and he was quite surprised to learn that I’m from “The West.”  Before dropping us off at our dorms, he took us on a quick tour of the city, at which point all my romantic yearnings were satisfied.  (Buckingham Palace—wow!)

When we first arrived at our dorm, all of us just dropped off our bags, found Jesse and Uven (the two other scholars who had flown earlier to England), and took London by storm.  Our whole group ate lunch at a nearby pub.  I, of course, ordered fish ‘n chips.

Next, Cyrstal, Uven, Jesse, and I walked to Westminster Abbey, Westminster Cathedral, the Parliament Building, Big Ben, and the Thames while the other party poopers went home and slept.  I was so impressed by the Parliament Building.  It’s massive and so ornately decorated!  Looking at that building finally convinced me that I was not in America.

At this point, Crystal and I took off to an internet café where I e-mailed my family.  After that, we went grocery shopping.  

By this time, I was dying of thirst, so I walked into the nearest McDonald’s (hello, Americar!) and ordered a soda.  The man couldn’t understand my “accent” at first, then finally realized I was American.  Hee!

After a long, wearying day, I came home, unpacked, showered, and hit the sack.  I was thoroughly exhausted--in a very satisfying sort of way.”

Whew!  So there are Days 1 and 2.  J   I think I’ll just quickly summarize Day 3 (today):

I slept pretty well (7 hours) and awoke feeling fairly refreshed.  Crystal soon wandered by to complain that the boys were still sleeping, so she and I decided to make a quick stop at a convenience store.  After discovering that it is impossible to buy clothing hangers in London, we returned to the apartment, walked up the six flights of narrow, Victorian stairs to my room (right next to three of the boys’ rooms), and rounded up the gang for another sight-seeing adventure.  When we finally were able to drag Uven out of bed around 10:30, the four of us (Crystal, Nick, Uven, me) headed off to find breakfast.  We ended up stopping at a darling little café where I purchased a small croissant and the boys purchased two gigantic English breakfasts (two plates full of the complete works!).  Crystal and I had to use the bathroom, so we climbed the long, winding stairway to the restroom only to discover that there was no toilet paper.  Oops!

After breakfast, we purchased our tube pass—or rather, I purchased my tube pass.  Uven and Nick claim they’re going to walk to school every day, so they only purchased one-week Oyster cards.  And for some reason, the man helping Crystal wouldn’t issue her a month-long pass until she filled out several forms (luckily, my ticket agent just swiped my debit hard and handed me the pass).  When I saw the price, though, I felt sick to my stomach:  85 pounds (150 dollars) for a month-long tube pass in Zones 1 and 2!  It was highway (or maybe “subway”) robbery.   After that adventure, we all went grocery shopping at a Tesco Maxi (a “large” grocery shopping center which turned out to be about the size of an American gas station).  

Next, our group wandered over toward Buckingham Palace to gape at all the poshly-dressed people entering its gates.  Then we headed through Hyde park (stopping at several monuments and snapping pictures in picturesque spots), moving toward the University of Westminster.   We figured it would take us a half hour or so to reach the campus buildings, but it ended up taking well over an hour.  My feet were screaming for relief by the time we arrived!   On our way, we passed through Piccadilly Square (sp?) and picked up some information on last-minute West End theatre tickets.  I think our group is planning to attend either “Jane Eyre” or “The Producers,” and Uven said he’d go with me to “Mary Poppins” if no one else would.  Uven is a very considerate young man.  

Once we finally located the university buildings, I snapped some quick photos of the main office (very Romanesque), and then we stopped at a coffee shop where Uven and Crystal bought lattes. By this time, both my muscles and my stomach were in violent protest of every move.  We browsed the FCUK clothing store, and then passed through China Town. Uven speaks several dialects of Mandarin fluently, and he was able to direct me to a Chinese bakery where I purchased a sweet roll filled with a pasty pork mixture.  

A few minutes later, we found ourselves in Trafalgar Square.  I think that area is my favorite of London so far.  A sidewalk chalk artist was sketching brilliant Michelangelo reproductions on the pavement, birds littered the streets, statues and fountains adorned the square, and in the very middle of it all stood the British Museum.  Its very exterior is imposing, and its interior is even better.  My heart leapt in my chest when I walked into the first room and saw two original Van Goghs.  I could’ve spent ages in the museum, but after only a few rooms, my travel companions began to tire.  I walked on by myself, and was soon joined by a young man with a thick middle-eastern accent.  “Beautiful paintings, no?” he asked.  “You yourself are very beautiful.  Could I have your phone number?”  I stammered a bit and then remembered that I have no phone number in the UK.  Easy excuse!

I rejoined my group, and we decided to head back to the apartment and cook the two pizzas we’d purchased at Tesco (hey—I can always come back to the museum later using my tube pass).  By the time we finally arrived at Wigram Hall, I was ready to kick off my shoes, sit down, and never stir again!  We lounged around the kitchen for awhile and chatted whilst (!) a lone Chinese girl cooked a luxurious meal and then wandered off by herself to eat it.  Some members of our group tried talking to her, but she was very shy.  We also met some Italians in the hall, and even though their English isn’t perfect, they were very friendly.  Nick tried conversing with them in broken Spanish which made me laugh.  Oh!  I also figured out how to use my calling card, and I was able to speak with my mom for the first time since I arrived in London, which was wonderful.  Now I just need to figure out how to make domestic calls so I can set up wireless internet in my dorm room.

And now. . .here I am!  My group is still out pub-ing, so I think I’ll climb into my pajamas, pull out a good book, and relax.  Mmm. . .a delicious ending to a delicious day.

Stay tuned for installment #2!