Nostalgia

I've been feeling pretty nostalgic lately, for several reasons.

At the Mayan ruins of Tulum 

The first, and probably most immediate, is that I'm having a hard time believing that it's now been more than a year since I left for my study abroad experience in England. It was a wonderful period of time, where I met new people and saw amazing sights. I frequently consider the merits of buying a plane ticket to go back, despite the great expense.

Going on a cruise in the Carribean over winter break has helped with the desire to travel a least a little, especially considering that it was warm and beautiful while it was cold back home, but I definitely still want to travel so many other places in the future. I've been to Europe a couple of times (and still seen only some of the many sights available) and, as of this December, I've touched on a very small part of South America; however, I've never been to so many other places, and I hope to take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way in the future to see a bit more of the world.

Another piece of nostalgia is the fact that this is my final semester at William & Mary. It's hard to think that it has already been almost four years since I began as a freshman and had no idea what a wonderful community I would build here. I love being a student here because of my friends, and because of the opportunities for new experiences (in classes, in clubs, and even studying abroad). I don't yet know what will come when I graduate in May, but I'm sure it will also be amazing if my time at William & Mary is any indication. However, I'm don't know where I'm going to find a group of friends as awesome as my friends in Spotlight Show Choir...so I suppose I'll just have to come back to visit everyone as frequently as possible (potentially to the point where they're a little sick of me, but such is life).

Not only does the idea of graduating make me feel nostalgic for my freshman year, I also feel
nostalgic for my childhood, because graduating from college seems like a landmark for growing up
and taking on new responsibilities. I don't know if I'm ready to think of myself as an adult quite yet, luckily I have quite a few months to get used to the idea.

Road Trip: At the Ballet

Last night I headed into New York City with my mom for an evening of fun. We headed out in the early afternoon, after working from home for a little while (one of the benefits of being a PR and Social Media intern is that pretty much all of my work can be done from anywhere).

We arrived a little earlier than we'd planned, so while waiting for our dinner reservation to roll around we walked around inside one of the shops. Unfortunately when we decided to head over to the restaurant, still a half an hour early, it was pouring outside. We bought an umbrella and headed over, by which time we were no longer early for our reservation at the Atlantic Grill across from Lincoln Center.

The restaurant was absolutely wonderful, I enjoyed a particularly good Gazpacho and Red Miso Atlantic Cod. We planned to have dessert, but luck was not on our side. The restaurant somehow got the impression that our show began at 8, rather than 7:30; so when, at 7:25, we still didn't have our dessert or our bill, I started to get a little nervous. I headed across the street to the Metropolitan Opera while Mom waited behind to pay.

Crossing the street was a somewhat terrifying experience however. When we'd been finishing our main courses I had heard the flood alert for the city, and though little of it, but when I walked outside I saw that it had been very much justified. The rain was torrential, and the streets were a bit like rivers. I ended up wet up to my knees (which is a more significant measurement than usual, as my heels added at least four inches to my height) before I had gotten even halfway across.

A misleading picture from before the rain

I made it into the show by the barest measure, the ushers were hurrying me along as I practically ran up the stairs and I made it to my seat just as the lights went out and the orchestra began to play. Mom didn't quite make the first act, and ended up having to watch on a closed-circuit screen in a room outside the theater itself and then joined me after intermission.

The show I was frantically trying to make was the American Ballet Theatre's Shakespeare Celebration, the first act of which was a performance of Frederick Ashton's The Dream—a ballet interpretation of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream—and the second was Alexei Ratmansky's The Tempest. The double bill was perfectly timed in several ways, echoing both the recent occurence of Midsummer itself and a celebration of Shakespeare's 450th birthday, but more coincidentally appropriate was the performance of a ballet dealing with a storm during an actual storm.

Both ballet's were spectacular.

I particularly enjoyed The Dream, not because it was superior, but because it is based on a play with which I am more familiar. The costuming was beautiful, with the fairies clothed in glittering tulle and flowers and the more staid costuming for the mortals who become tangled in their affairs, and so was the dancing. I had never imagined that a ballet could make me laugh, but because they didn't speak all their emotions were exaggerated, sometimes to the point that even somewhat serious moments struck me as a little silly. The funniest scenes were those involving Helena, Hermia, Lysander and Demetrius, whose love lives are mucked up by the mischevious Puck. Watching Helena dance/chase Demetrius around the stage, and then having that chase mirrored later on when Lysander and Demetrius end up fighting each other for her attention, was surprisingly hilarious. Honestly any scene involving Puck was enjoyable, whenever he appeared he would seem to leap effortlessly in and out of other dancer's paths, and wherever he went chaos was sure to follow. Craig Salstein's performance as the sprite was full of merriment and a restless energy which was incredible to watch.

However, my favorite scene was the Pas de Deux between Oberon and Titania to Mendelssohn's Nocturne. Not only was the dancing beautiful, but it featured one of my very favorite pieces of classical music. Oberon, danced by James Whiteside, was particularly enjoyable to watch, and gave a clear impression of regality and strength. Xiomara Reyes as Titania was also a wonderful character, flirtatious and defiant, but most particularly in her interactions with Oberon.

The Tempest was beautiful as well, but the feelings it evoked were very different, darker and more dramatic. The sense of importance was helped along by the music, which contrasted dissonance and harmony, while combining the harp and harmonium with the occasional sounds of a choir or the flute and muted strings. Unfortunately, The Tempest is a play that I do not know particularly well, and I did not follow the plot as well as I might have. So while it was a wonderful ballet, and I was often awestruck by the abilities of the dancers, the story was not nearly as clear as in The Dream. However, the choreography between the lovestruck Miranda and Ferdinand was particularly lovely, Yuriko Kajiya and Jared Matthews respectively, and Cory Stearns as Prospero was a powerful presence.


While I was greatly anticipating this performance, I found myself enjoying it so much more than I expected. Watching a ballet in person is so inspiring and absolutely breathtaking, and I found myself swept up in the story and the music.

Homeward Bound

So: This is it.

I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for our gate to be listed, and trying to find the words to sum up this experience. I will admit to having felt some apprehension before leaving about how well I would manage being away from home for so long a period. I do not generally tend towards homesickness, but I've never been so far away before. 

However, everyone is always saying that a study abroad is a life-changing and wonderful experience, and they are certainly not wrong. I do not regret for a moment my decision to come here, even if it does mean that I have had one less semester to spend at William & Mary. I loved living in Exeter almost as much as I have loved Williamsburg, and I am as sad to leave it behind as I will be come next spring and graduation.

I made so many new friends: students from the University of Exeter, other exchange students from around the world, and even some from back at William & Mary whom I might never have met otherwise. I saw new places, both in the British Isles and in continental Europe. Although I certainly hope that I will have more opportunities to travel in the future; I still have a very long list to get through, and quite a few continents that I haven't even begun to explore.

I think that being here has taught me so many things about myself that I never knew. 

I can survive on my own in an unfamiliar place, helpful knowledge, considering my looming graduation and entry into the real world. When traveling, and probably just in general, you will get lost and things will not work out the way you had planned, but if you just relax, things do work out. People are nicer than you expect. 

There's also the little lessons: learn some of the language (be it an entirely new language or just some changes in slang), don't overpack (you need less than you think), take advantage of the opportunities you are given, and above all, don't panic.

After this, I am no longer so worried about how my life will change after I graduate; I know I can handle what comes my way.

I am a bit sad to be leaving, but I also think that I am ready to go home. I plan to put my new life lessons to good use and to be much braver than I was before. Over the past few months I have realized how much there is to see back home, and how little of it I have seen.

Hopefully it won't be too long before I get another chance to travel abroad; but if it is, I will simply have to find some new adventures closer to home!

The Last of My Days in England

The day we traveled back to England from Ireland was the day that felt like it might never end.

We woke up at around 3:00 that morning and loaded the car up, before making the three-ish hour drive down to Dublin to meet our 8:30 ferry to Holyhead, Wales. We made good time and arrived with nearly an hour to spare before boarding, an hour we filled with caffeine and blank stares. The ferry itself was all right, if a bit rougher than ithe way over had been. Once again we had booked premium tickets, so I interspersed cups of tea with naps curled up in my little armchair.

Upon arrival in Holyhead, we made our way across Anglesey Isle and up the coast a little, to Conwy Castle. We parked on the far side of the city from the castle itself and walked most of the way on the old city walls. The castle was really interesting, although mostly an empty shell of stone at this point. The views of the sea from the towers were beautiful, plus I found some remaining stained glass in the chapel!

After leaving Conwy, we drove back down the coast a bit and made another stop at a castle. This one was Caernarfon Castle, and it looked to be in slightly better shape than Conwy, at least from the outside, and we did not actually end up going in. Instead, we took a few nice pictures of the outside, and of the surrounding town, before finding someplace to eat. We all know that, no matter how beautiful, historic buildings must be found wanting when compared to food (especially considering that we were all absolutely starving). We ate at the Black Boy Inn, just down the street from the castle; I'm not sure if the lamb shank (my second of the trip) was actually a delicious as I thought it was, or if I was just so hungry that anything would have tasted amazing.

After those two stops, we pretty much just drove continuously on our way down to Exeter (which our handy GPS estimated would take us at least another five and a half hours). On the way we did drive through both the Snowdonia National Park (Doesn't that just sound like thename of a made-up kingdom for Barbies?) the Brecon Beacons National Park, which were both beautiful. 

I was thrilled when we finally made it to Exeter. We parked the car, dumped our bags in my flat, and walked down to our hotel. Michael spent the night in my flat, as our hotel would only sleep two, while Mom and I spent the night at the Royal Clarence Hotel out on the Cathedral Yard (we had a view of the Cathedral from our window). That night was the best sleep I have had in ages, bar none.

The next day I introduced my mom to the wonders of the Exeter Cathedral, which I think is the most beautiful we visited (not that I'm biased or anything), before grabbing breakfast and heading out on our trip for the day.

We decided to head out, driving through Dartmoor on the way, to Tintagel, on the coast of Cornwall. Tintagel is the legendary birthplace of King Arthur and the town definitely banks on that connection. Everything that possibly could had a name that referenced some aspect of the Arthurian legends (in fact we had lunch at the King Arthur's Arms after we walked back from the castle).

The castle itself, mostly ruins, was on a rocky outcropping into the ocean and the views were spectacular. First we walked down to the beach and into Merlin's Cave. We chose wisely, because when we came back from our adventures on the higher ground of the castle, the tide had come in and the cave was inaccessible. But my favorite part was the rocky cliffs jutting out above the ocean. I was glad to get some gorgeous pictures in, but mostly I just enjoyed sitting there.

The uphill trek back into town was a little unpleasant; it was a fairly hot day and we were probably still a little tired from our long journey the day before. Once we got back in town, we found the first place that looked appealing and sat down to lunch. I had my last fish and chips of my study abroad.

We left Exeter the next morning; it was sad to say goodbye to the town that had been my home for e last five months, but luckily I had gotten the chance to say some last goodbyes already (I had run into Jen, Lucy and Simon the night before).

Our first stop of the day was Bath. It was just as beautiful the second time around, although we walked around a different part of  the city this time. We saw the Jane Austen Centre, the Circus (large town houses arranged in circular around a little park, and apparently inspired by the Colosseum), and some generally good examples of the beautiful architecture in Bath. Our one real stop was in the Fashion Museum, which Michael suffered through admirably. I loved looking at the clothes, but the best part was definitely trying them on. We were given the opportunity to try on a few different Victorian gowns and bonnets, as well as corsets and crinolines. I think I tried on all of the gowns that would possibly fit me, and the corset made my waist look amazing (although I will admit to some, by which I mean so so much, difficulty breathing while wearing it).

We continued our journey towards London and, on the way, visited Stonehenge (the second time for Michael and me) was still rather awe-inspiring, and once again the weather was perfect for the visit.

Although that was our last real stop, the day was certainly not over. Once we arrived at our hotel, a Jury's Inn near Heathrow, we unpacked the car and headed out to the rental lot to return it. I think we were all glad to be done driving on the opposite side of the road, and it was kind of relaxing taking the tube back to the hotel.

This morning we headed into the city, heading first to see the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge. Mom was especially excited to see the Tower Bridge because on her first (and only before now) trip to London there had been scaffolding covering it.

After that we headed over to St Paul's, which Michael was particularly interested in seeing. We walked around the church, enjoying the amazing mosaics and the neoclassical architecture for a while. We also climbed up the many stairs to the Whispering Gallery and the Stone Gallery, although we did not continue all the way up to the Golden Gallery, a decision my legs much appreciated. We had lunch at a nearby Pizza Express, before Michael left to grab his bags from the hotel and make his way to the airport for his flight back home.

Mom and I continued on to Westminster, where we saw the Houses of Parliament, as well as Westminster Abbey. The abbey was beautiful as well, although I will admit to a preference for St. Paul's versus the gothic architecture of Westminster (Mom had exactly the opposite preference, but to each their own). However it is still a close call, and I absolutely adore the stained glass windows, the detailing in the stonework, and the arches of Westminster.

The last thing on our agenda was to pay a visit to the National Portrait Gallery, although first we stopped into their cafe for afternoon tea (or coffee in my mom's case). The gallery was a wonderful as ever, and I could have spent at least twice the amount of time there than we were able to.

For dinner I introduced my mom to one of my favorite chains here, Wagamamas; then we headed back to the hotel, where I proceeded to pack frantically (this is always how I would characterize my packing, no matter how much time I spend at it, because I loathe it so very much) and then to write this very blog post. See: I can write posts in a timely manner. 

Tomorrow morning I will be leaving the UK and returning to the US, for the first time in more than five months.