Providence, TV on the Radio

These past seven months have given me a strange outlook on life. There are a few things I'm excited about going home for, but for the most part, I wish I could just keep traveling. All of the new things I'm seeing make me realize how different everything is and I want to experience so much more. I want to live abroad for a while and experience just how much it all changes by switching hemispheres, timezones and countries. During these past seven months, I've learned more about myself than in the last two hundred forty (that's 20 years in months). In other words, I'm unbelievably lucky to have this chance to explore not only the world, but myself.
But on the same token, get me home. I want to see my puppy, sleep in my own bed and eat more "American" food. And I happen to want to see my family too. But I want to see my puppy more.

This weekend I went to London. Leaving Thursday morning at 7 was incredibly unappealing, yet it got me into London around 9:00 (with the time change). I checked into my hostel then walked around the city. I think one of the more amazing things about this city is how much it's survived. You can still see buildings from the 1700s, 1800s and past. Most of them have survived two World Wars and, well, survived pretty well. I took pictures of Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey and the entire area. I walked around here for a few hours and took in as much as I could. As it started raining, I took the tube to London Bridge then the bus back to New Cross Inn. Once there, I took a nap (typical), got food and read for the rest of the evening (again, typical). I went to bed fairly early and woke up the next day ready to adventure.

My adventure began with going to the Tower of London soon after it opened on Friday. Stay tuned for my pictures, but here's some basic history on the Tower. It was built by William the Conqueror around 1100 AD and used as the royal palace for a while. I'm not sure when the royal palace was switched to Buckingham, but I know it was fairly recently (as far as history goes). I believe it was around the late nineteenth century. I practiced my English with a Tower guard (an older gentleman from the area who had been in the Army for almost 30 years) who told me stories of the tower. I learned that if ravens ever leave the tower, the British empire will fall, that if you look one in the eye, it will steal your soul and that the salt tower is haunted by Catholic Martyrs. Seems like England has a lot of superstition. Also, I saw the crown jewels (incredible) and afterward looked for Princes William or Harry so I would have access to them. Around 2, I returned to the hostel to grab my pack and headed back toward Westminster, looking to go in before 3:30, when the signs say they close. At 3:15, I got around the corner, took some pictures while the light was still good, then rushed in at 3:29 to try to make it in before it closed. I made it inside the door as a door guard shut it on me. As he and I discussed the time, Big Ben rung, telling us that it was 3:30. I decided that they clearly did not need my money and took pictures from the outside (which are probably better than the ones I could have gotten on the inside). I then walked along the Thames, looking at the Dali museum and read for a little. (Hemingway is only fueling my wanderlust.) Finally, it was time to meet Lauren. When I saw her, we adventured toward her Granny's house and got lost. After finally finding her Granny's house, we ate dinner and watched (ENGLISH!) television.

The next day, we woke up early to have coffee at a polish cafe with Lauren's uncle and cousin. Afterward, we went to a small farmer's market, getting delicious food and Lauren's Granny drove us to Harrods so we could look at all the clothes we could not afford. (Pretty exciting.) Then, we took the tube to the bank of the Thames and walked around, stumbling on a German Christmas Fair. We rode on the Merry-Go-Round, got chips and looked at old books. Once the rain picked up, we took the tube to her Granny's house and walked back in the rain. We ate food from the Farmers Market and watched "Strictly Come Dancing", the precursor to "Dancing with the Stars", only cultured because of the accents.

We slept in the next day, before going to the Tate Modern, seeing Rothko's, Miro's, Andy Warhol's, Picasso's and so many more. The three of us got lunch there and Lauren and I went off to Camden Markets, a permanently set up Rastro type market. Since we got there late, all the stalls were offering deals. We got massages, crepes and some accessories. Afterward, Lauren took me to a "proper English Pub", where I tried Newcastle Brown Ale (delicious), fish and chips (not too bad) and promised to come back to England for longer (a promise I intend to keep). We went back to her Granny's house late. I packed my bag and got ready to go back to Spain early the next morning.

My flight got delayed from Stansted Airport by about 30 minutes, then we took an extra 45 to take off. I got back to my apartment around 3:00 and I tried to get ready for class in time, but failed, getting to campus around 4:15, a point in time where my Profe tells us not to bother to come to class. I ate some food and studied for my next class and prepared for finals week (approaching quickly). Last night, I went over to my friend Dave's house, as well, and baked Christmas cookies with him and his roommates. We listened to Christmas music and overall got in the Christmas Spirit. I returned home late (we live a block away) and I went to bed, waking up late this morning.

The countdown has begun: 12 more days.