What. A. Night! ...Be prepared for a novel

Friday, 09.03.2010

I have survived walking around London barefoot with no consequences other than black feet. For all you germophobes: that means it actually is possible! Before you go thinking I belong in an asylum, let me backtrack to the beginning of the day:

Waking up at 8am in order to use the bathroom - it’s shared between 4 girls who all shower in the morning which necessitates a schedule - is not pleasant, especially when you don’t need to leave for orientation until 9:45am. Oh well! Such is life, I guess.

One inhaled breakfast of granola bars and yogurt later, my three roommates and I sat fidgeting in a lecture hall at Imperial University with approximately 250 other college students. Yet again we endured the typical administrative commonsense spiel while fighting an ever-persuasive nap. After four tortuous hours, we were released for lunch. Most of the students congregated in the front entryway of the building to discuss plans for our three-hour break. Our quadruplet split: Maggie to go lunching with her Theta sisters; Amanda, Kat & I to run errands and eventually eat lunch.

Errands proved longer than anticipated, but we still managed to eat lunch at a relatively cheap (and fast) sandwich shop. Kat ordered a baguette filled with yellow curry, I had a vegetable samosa, and Amanda went across the street to Starbucks for coffee and a fruit cup. Gulping down our food at a pace directly related to our hunger level – a telltale sign of Americans – brought us right back on schedule with an hour left to spare before our second orientation on our internship. I stopped off at Foundation House – the administrative building for our program – to reschedule some classes. Unfortunately, I quite literally held the door open for the Academics Director while she left for an errand, which meant I had the pleasure of waiting for her to return. Whilst I waited, I decided to take a bathroom break during which she magically appeared…then disappeared causing me to wait again. An hour passed and she never showed up but I had to dart over to the orientation, about ten city blocks away, in order to be on time. Thus, I’m forced to come back on Monday :/

The second orientation proved to be about as educational as the last two – meaning all you needed was common sense and a bit of intellect to figure it out. Perhaps the only useful bit of information was the difference between American and British workplaces. (Apparently Brits are much more relaxed and sarcastic at the job, enabling co-workers to bond and form friendships rather than the more competitive, go-go-go atmosphere of the US.) Luckily, our presenter realized this and sped through most of it, allowing us to leave half an hour early.

A repeat of the congregation in the front hall to sort out plans for evening led again to the splitting up of our room: this time Kat departed with friends for shopping and Maggie joined up with her Theta sisters again, which left Amanda & I on our own to explore, which we did happily. After dropping off our stuff in the room, we headed down the opposite side of Queen’s Gate from that which we normally traversed. It appeared to dead end at a park, but shockingly enough, we chanced upon a lovely little restaurant/pub/shopping area with a closer Tube stop. Deciding to eat was a difficult affair sine everything looked so good! Eventually, Amanda and I settled on a cute little crêpe place called Créme de la Crêpe. We both ordered the most amazing goat cheese crêpes! If you’re ever in London, do go! It’s immediately off the South Kensington station.

Then, we headed back to make sure we were dressed to the nines for our first night on the town in London. Once we were sufficiently beautified, Amanda, five other girls, two boys and I all gathered at a great local pub called Zetland Arms to watch the England v. Bulgaria football match (and yes, that means soccer). It’s no joke how much the Brits love their football; it’s a stereotype for a reason!

Next, we set out for the wonders of London nightlife. Picking the correct Tube line was slightly more difficult than would otherwise appear since the map is (1) not drawn to scale and (2) not necessarily drawn in the accurate direction. Nevertheless, we conquered the alien transportation system and boarded the proper train. Climbing the stairs once we alighted at the stop was harder than it looked (five-inch heels are not exactly conducive to the process). Thus, we decided to stop for a pint at the pub immediately in front of the station.

Here, I had my first encounter with British boys. One had graduated and was working marketing; the other was a psychology major about to finish up. Both went to “uni” (or university) in Lancaster. One of the first questions asked was where I was from and when I told them California, they naturally brought up Katy Perry’s “California Girls”. I almost spit up my drink because I laughed so suddenly at this. Once this gold nugget of information had been revealed, they seemed much more intrigued with the conversation. Anyone surprised? Not me! However, this encounter did lead me to believe that British culture includes much more wit, subtle sarcasm and self-deprecation than I had originally anticipated.

The night was far from over! From here on out, it was an adventure, hands down. Traipsing down the road to a supposedly awesome nightclub called Fabric was steadily getting more and more painful – those five-inch heels were getting to me, even though I’d resolved not to let them. Alas, I was the idiot who followed the trend and wore them so I didn’t complain. Instead, I simply took them off and slipped them back on before going into the club.

Let me say right now, that was most definitely not a club; it was more like a rave! Amanda put it the most eloquently: “the music sounded like a garbage disposal!” From here on out, American and British culture clashed…sort of. First off, boys do not approach girls here. It was very strange. And nobody grinds. I introduced myself to a French boy, a Bulgarian, an Italian, and lastly a British boy. One way or another I only chatted or danced with them for a few minutes because either they did not speak enough English to understand me or I could not hear them over the horrible racket that passed as music or I was in danger of being separated by the group.

Finally, I was fed up with this ridiculous club and wanted to go. The others had left me sitting outside the room that housed the third dance floor (which they were on) so I went to find them…and saw no one familiar in the smoky room. I hurried around slowly growing more and more panicked until a security guard who watched me bounce back and forth between the three dance floors finally asked me if I was looking for someone. When I mentioned a girl in a white dress with black polk-a-dots, he directed me towards the exit and pointed me in the right direction down the street. With cell reception restored, I could call them to wait for me.

Now came the challenge of which bus to take home. We found a bus stop, asked some nice Turkish boys directions (they have been living here for three years), and got on the bus. One of them even came up to the top deck to tell us when to get off. Such manners! (Or it could have been the combination of short dresses, heels, and desperation…)

By this point, I abandoned propriety and took my heels off. There is only so much pain I will put with for beauty and I draw the line at blisters. The saga of getting home continued when we got off because we had to find the correct connection, which took some doing. Along the way, a group of British boys helped us, a group of Columbians accosted us, Amanda and Andie were swung around by some very drunk tourists, and we were catcalled at least seven times. Apparently British girls don’t wear dresses with bare legs or heels when they go out (the no-heels part is definitely the way to go).

Collapsing in my bed after a night like that was the most amazing and rewarding experience of my London experience so far – not mention freeing my aching feet from those dratted heels! (In case you were wondering, it took about three hours to get home, which means I didn’t crawl into bed until 5:30am!)

 
 
 
 
 
 
Saturday, 09.04.2010


I absolutely hate alarms! Falling asleep at 6am definitely does not help waking up at 9am for a 10am walking tour. That was physically painful to bare this morning. I hit snooze and stayed asleep as long as possible until I was forced to roll out of bed in order to look “decently proper”, aka make-up without jeans and a tee-shirt. This means I missed breakfast because I didn’t have time to make it :/ Bugger!

The walking tour lasted two hours and took us around the historic parts of our neighborhood, Kensington: Royal Albert Hall, the Natural Science Museum, the Victoria & Albert Museum, Hyde Park, Kensington Palace, and the list goes on and on. My poor, abused feet were not thrilled about this experience, but otherwise I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the ins-and-outs of the area I’m living in for the next three months.

After a quick lunch at The Sandwich Shop, Maggie and I – the only ones of our apartment to make it to the tour after coming in so late – returned to the flat to catch up on neglected chores, like dishes and, in my case, a nap. Next we – our whole flat of eight girls this time – readied ourselves for the three-hour bus tour of London. It was actually quite lovely and very informative. The tour guide had a very acerbic sense of humor that I liked but didn’t translate well to the rest of the sleepy group. I pulled out the tourist stereotype and took pictures of everything! I think there were 150 pictures all told… Clearly, I was camera-happy but at least I have the evidence to prove I’m in London!

Then Maggie, Amanda, Kat and I did some grocery shopping at Waitrose before heading back to the flat for some much needed rest and relaxation. It felt good to have everything done: no dishes, no unpacking, nada left to do. I caught up on my blogging then surfed the net for a bit.

A little while later, Maggie invited Amanda and I to come chill with her Theta sisters in the Hyde Park residence. We were more than happy to join! Once the typical pleasantries were exchanged, where to travel for our one-week break came up. Since we all had similar travel plans, we put our heads together and started plotting our route. When we finally glanced at the clock and realized how late it was – past midnight – Maggie, Amanda and I gathered up our things and left to get some necessary rest.