!

2010-02-12T05:52:00.000Z

These were the best days of my life,

I can't get them out of my head,

I'm pining.

All's Well That Ends Well

2009-05-15T05:39:00.000+01:00

There it all happened, on that continent somewhere around the corner and across an ocean. I did it, I made it done, welcome back. And now there's just no way to make it all in writing the way I saw it through eyes and heart. There's no sleep, either.

The world was good to me for eight weeks, lugging, chugging along mountains and staircases, drifting through channels on ferries and high flying; wandering, wondering, being amazed. There was a feeling more alive, and aware. I made it done, I saw it. I loved it, beautiful scenes rolling on through windows, and sparkling city lights, sand between toes. Climbing. Driving. Planning and executing, the defeat of sitting still. No-matter-what, where-are-we-going, which-way, and we-made-it's. We made it done.

Sit down with my little friend jet lag. Confusion set in, steering down familiar streets in a recognized town and all I can think of is my incertitude of the air's temperature, the month, the day of the week...

...and my! Did that all really just happen? Did that happen?

Pinch me, I'm home.

Aww, Sad Day.

2009-05-11T23:09:00.002+01:00

Last night in Amsterdam, and in Europe for that matter. It's been a blast. I would live here in a heartbeat.

This has been unreal. I've got a looooooooong day tomorrow, involving an Atlantic flight and a ton of luggage. Yuck.

Take care all.
Love
jc

Weimar

2009-05-09T20:11:00.002+01:00

Hello hello

A quick note from Germany. Arrived here in Weimar yesterday afternoon after spending a day in Salzburg, Austria, where I saw some of the most stunning scenery Ive witnessed. I climbed through the hills and made my way to a fortress in Salzburg, took a nature hike and had a fabulous meal before visiting a garden where part of The Sound of Music was filmed. The city was very clean and beautiful.

Weimar is neat, though Germany has not been as enjoyable as some of the other places Ive seen (not to say that I have no enjoyed it, however). Things Weimar is known for: Bauhaus, Goethe and Schiller. Yesterday I took in the Neue Museum Weimar, which houses a ton of Bauhaus beauties (Bauhaus was a design movement during the 20s that originated in Weimar.) This place is so proud of Bauhaus, and it makes me happy! The museum was fab. I wandered a bit around the city center and found the Bauhaus University before returning for dinner.

I was pretty grossly bitten by some sort of insect while in Italy (likely in awful Lido di Jesolo or perhaps Venice), and have bites on my feet, ankles, and hips. Im not certain what got to me but it went to town anyhow. The bites itched like crazy for days, I finally went to a pharmacy when we arrived in Weimar and bought an anti itch gel. To add to things, Ive been feeling like garbage. May have been something I consumed, etc. but Ive been trying to sleep it off. I know I am not just sleep deprived because Ive gotten a solid 6 to 8 hours a night the entire trip.

Thus feeling like terribleness, I went to sleep last night right after dinner, at 20:30, and woke up at 08:00 this morning. Today was unreal. My day began with a visit to Buchenwald, a concentration camp that is right outside of Weimar. It was operated as a labor camp for prisioners from 1937 until its liberation in 1945.

Wow. How do you describe this experience? Unbelievable? Shocking? Surreal?

Most of the buildings on the camp are no longer, but the main entrance, many of the barbed wire fences, the crematorium, and several other buildings remain. I walked through the crematorium...sickening. There was a photograph on the wall of stacks of bodies, and I looked out the door and saw the exact spot that the photograph was taken. There are no words.

I am in Weimar this evening, then headed to Amsterdam in the morning. Well be there until Tuesday when I jump on a plane and head back to the States. If I dont have a chance to write again, Ill be arriving at Fargos Hector Intl at 6:20pm.

Goodbye

2009-05-07T20:44:00.000+01:00

Afternoon in Venice

2009-05-06T17:10:00.003+01:00

For the sake of the awkward Internet cafe I am at, I am going to make this quick. I am currently in a little resort town in Italy, called Lido de Jesolo. Theres not much to do here and I think its kind of a has-been town. Very dated. Were about a hundred yards from the beach, and I hung out and played games with friends in the sand all evening. Buy a few bottles of cheap wine and surround yourself with friends and you have yourself a perfect evening (better if the wine wasnt cheap...then again, the scenery makes up for it.)

Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, and I should first finish recounting my journies in Florence. Florence, Florence! Unbelievable. Fantastic shopping, the best gelaterias around, and lovely sights. I woke up yesterday morning and did a bit of shopping and wandering. There is a fantastic market set up in the streets, where vendors sell leather bags, wallets, jewelry, etc. etc. Their prices are ridiculous but you never under any circumstances take anything for ticket price --- youve got to learn to haggle, and Ive become quite the negotiator! At noon I met up with my group for a visit to the Accademia, where Michelangelos David resides. I think David needs his own paragraph:

I didnt think it was possible for stone to steal my thoughts, attention --- my breath even. David was outright gorgeous, stunning. You could see his veins, every muscle, everything incredible. It looked as if he actually could breathe, and had organs. And he is TALL, much taller than Id pictured. I wish I could find better words for him. I feel under pressure as the person to my left is staring at me.

They dont allow you to take photographs of David, and I didnt care to. He speaks for himself, another thing that a photograph could not do justice for. Also, watching the reactions of others when they see him is outstanding. Everyone -- everyone is in awe, and hardly anyone says anything at all. The room was quiet of amazement.

Today we made a day trip to Venice, where I spent an incredible afternoon. We took a ferry, and upon arrival made St. Marks our first stop. Its an 11th century cathdral made of pirate loot and hands down ---and I know Ive said this many time before but-- hands down one of the coolest, most beautiful places Ive visited in my life. Absolutely stunning. I paid a little extra to get close to the altar, where St. Marks remains are, and the greatest of the loot: hundreds of rubies, sapphire, pearls, and other precious gems embedded in vast gold. The ceilings of the entire cathedral are gold mosaic. I am speechless.

Afterward I visited Doges Palace (cool) and took a trip across the Bridge of Sighs, the passageway that prisoners took from their cells into the palace for sentencing. I had a wonderful Rick Steves recommended lunch on a cozy street, grabbed some gelato then jumped on a gondola for an afternoon ride through the canals of Venice. WOW! I felt like I was in The Italian Job, minus the speedboat. It was terribly relaxing and beautiful to match. There is nothing...nothing like Venice. You dont see cars on the island, just boats, as water replaces streets! Very, very unique.

Tomorrow we are off to Salzburg for an overnighter. Hopefully the hills will be alive (with the sound of music...haha!) Ahhh. Time is so precious...

The man from the Internet cafe has invited me to karaoke this evening at the bar. Mamma mia! I might have to round up some friends after dinner!

Love again, and love always. Ciao!

jc

FLORENCE!

2009-05-04T19:41:00.003+01:00

Hey from Florence!

We arrived here yesterday, and let me tell you, this place is fantastic. The best gelato, and leather everywhere. I did a bit o shopping this morning after a tour of the city, then got GIGANTICALLY lost. As in very lost, and Id left my map at the hotel. So I was very lost. Alas, I am okay!

There is great gelato here and the Duomo is stunning. I was going to climb the tower today but as mentioned above, I got really lost. Florence is the birthplace of the Renaissance, so you can about imagine how fantastic it is. (If your name is Kacy Ferrara, then you know.) On the cool side of things, I visited the Leather School of Florence (not certain thats the official title, but a school where they make leather schtuff) and bought some pretty authentic goods. There are markets on every street and if youre good enough, you can get really nice stuff for unbelievable prices. Our bus driver frequents this place and took a group to a leather shop today, where many bargained and bought beautiful jackets (myself included).

Im at an internet cafe right now, and dont really have much time to write...there is too much ground to cover, I could go on for decades. I am sad that I didnt get tickets to the Uffizi gallery, but will be visiting Michelangelos David tomorrow afternoon before heading out to VENICE for an afternoon, and then Lido de Jeselo (sp) for an evening on the coastline (I believe). Then again, I really have no idea where Im going, and therein lies the beauty of this trip: not knowing what to expect, etc.

I am going to spend my last night in Florence on the town, grab a nice drink and perhaps some gelato!

Wish you all well.
xo
jc

Ventures to Papa Benny XVI's Pad, a.k.a the Vatican

2009-05-03T00:49:00.005+01:00

Today in my great Roman life:

The Vatican: Museum, Sistine Chapel, St. Peter's, etc.

All glistened, all was wondrous, and I never want to be in the same place as so many people ever, ever again — or wait in a queue for that many hours (nearly three).

I am quite tired to elaborate, and as soon as I get the goods from my camera up and running on here, I may post a few videos from today.

Tomorrow we're off to Sienna in the afternoon, and Florence by evening. I cannot wait!

Signing off, my last night in Rome!
Jenny

Roming (Sunburn Included)

2009-05-01T22:50:00.010+01:00

Buongiorno!!

At Torre pendente di Pisa, Pisa, Italy.
30 April 2009

It's May! I cannot believe it's May!

Another fantastic day in the European life. First stop: the Flavian Ampitheatre, better known as the COLISEUM. Very cool. It's not every day that I get to wake up and go to one of the greatest landmarks in Europe. If only. The sun was high by mid-morning and initiated the beginning of what was to be an impressive sunburn. I strolled around ancient Rome — unbelievable when you take a moment to think about it, that all of the ruins are real and not some Disney plastic; I feel like I'm looking for a roller coaster or a sign with a height requirement. No! It's all legit: The Forum, Coliseum, arches and pillars, etc. Older than dust and still kicking!

By late afternoon it was scorching. There was a gelato stop somewhere between roaming and roaming (where I discovered that half a bag of chocolate covered raisins had begun to melt in my purse), then a visit to the glorious Pantheon. By this time an afternoon siesta was most definitely in order. I think I'd logged on about 10 miles by midday, and 30 minutes of nap did the trick to reload. I was out wandering around by 1730.

One thing about Rome, or Italy in general — an observation of walking solo on the streets as well as with others: the Italian men are certainly not shy. They will make noises at you, or conversation, or just a simple "ciao, bella" in passing. The people, too, are aggressive. There is no such thing as a queue, and 'sorry' or 'excuse me' are hard to come by in a crowd. Space is invaded. I was waiting in line for a toilet the other day at an Italian rest stop, and literally had a headache from listening to the many Italian women bicker, their mouths like tapes rewinding as they shoved their way to a stall.

This evening was exceptional. Pizza and wine at an outdoor pizzeria, and then on to Concerto del Primo Maggio a Roma, a massive concert held on 01 May — Italy's celebration of Labour Day. There were hundreds of thousands there — a giant gathering if I've ever seen one — and many libations, music, and chaos. There was a famous Italian singer performing when we arrived, though his name escapes me. More gelato after the concert, and back home. I feel it was a successful day.

In the midst of updating I realized I left a gap in the week's events. We spent Wednesday traveling from Avignon, France to the cozy coastal town of Cavi de Lavagna, Italy, where we spent one evening. Our hotel was a block from the water, so my fellow travelers and I made a quick escape to the beach after settling in. It was absolutely liberating to dip my toes in the Mediterranean and jump along the shores. The water wasn't too chilly and the waves were surfable. Everyone was thoroughly satisfied. After dinner we returned to the beach to watch the sunset, and attempted to build a fire (unsuccessful). Cavi was also the place where I witnessed a lemon tree for the first time (until this I'd wholeheartedly believed that lemons replenished themselves in grocery store baskets, and in fact, did not grow anywhere).

Tomorrow I am visiting Vatican City, and who knows where else I'll "Rome" — HAHA! I most definitely love this place.

Mamma mia! CIAO (I need to work on some new phrases)

jenny

PS: I know it's a little late, but I've just posted on my adventures in Ireland. Read on, you crazy diamonds!

2009-04-30T22:10:00.004+01:00

Hello, hello from Rome!

We arrived here late this afternoon, after a long drive through Italy. Several stops were made along the way, including a visit to Pisa and the good ol' tower (she's still leaning). I was temporarily misplaced from the group after walking out of the bathroom at the coach park, to find that the rest of the group had already jumped the bus into Pisa -- about a 3 minute drive -- without me. Not a big deal but I certainly panicked. I took a few cliché photos with the leaning tower, ate some deliciouso amaretto gelato, and was harassed by vendors selling scarfs, knockoff handbags, and the like.

This evening we settled into our hotel in the east part of the city, ate a magnificent four course meal (I've never had such wonderful tomatoes), then walked to the Spanish steps and on to the Trevi Fountain for more gelato (I had a giant cone with four flavors and was in hea-ven), people watching, and soaking it all up. I've been here just a few hours, but I can already tell -- Rome is going to be one of my favorite cities. Dirty, yes, but definitely a lot of character and life.

I need a shower and some solid sleep. Tomorrow's plans include a tour of ancient Roma and a bunch of sites I cannot pronounce. I am very excited for these next few days!

Apologies that Ive been slacking on the skyping. I will call soon!

Love from bello Roma! (I hope I said that right)
Jenny

Parlez-vous l'anglais?

2009-04-28T21:25:00.014+01:00

Bonsoir:

It has been brought to my most French attention (though, in fact it was already known) that I have been Frenchly slacking on the blog. It turns out that I have a sibling — or perhaps, several beings that are of the same womb as I — that read this; 'Ghost Readers' I call them, mostly because I don't have a counter at the bottom of my page. As such, I have no idea how many eyes skim this page each day, or view my vain self portraits (more about vain-ness later), or express aloud how terribly, awfully, terribly horribly badly I need a haircut. For all I know my dog is reading this, which is not an entirely ludicrous presumption, as she is 84% human (screen name WiLLoWxBaBy99), but that is neither here nor there...

The world is turning, and somewhere seven hours in the future, I am walking in some distant country. If I were to star in a computer game in the 90's, it would be called 'Where In the World Is Jenny' etc. etc., and I would wear a ridiculous red hat, and gallivant about the globe in my trenchcoat. I love this vision. The fact is I am doing just this, minus the sleuth apparel, and you don't even have to guess "where in the world" I am because I will TELL you! How about that!

Today's lovely destination location of glorious magnificent worldly pleasure is Avignon, Provence, France! Actually — I was here when I updated the other day, but I'm still around these parts until tomorrow morning. Avignon is snuggled in the nooks of Southern France, itching to be a coastal city, but settling for exotic shores of Le Rhône River, as well as the Palais de Pape, a.k.a. the Pope's crib from 1309 -1403 during the schism/other papal doings. This castle monstrosity is located about 10 steps from the door of our hotel, in the centre of this cozy, touristy city.

What to say about France? As mentioned before, the language is a giant adjustment. Never before have I been in a country where English was not the primary language; this is at best interesting, at most hilarious, and to the extreme stressful. I've gotten fairly good at faking it. Example: When shopping, I'll enter a store and the shopkeeper/worker will say "Bonjour," which I mimick. Then I shop and hope they don't ask me questions, which they usually don't, and if they do, just nod my head in every direction, as if to say 'yes' and 'no' simultaneously. If I make a purchase, the cashier will say something, which I assume is along the lines of 'did you find everything alright, miss?' and I respond 'oui.' Then they'll say my total in French, and I hand them a credit card/cash and hope it's enough. Bam. They close with 'Merci, Mademoiselle, au revoir!' and I cap the conversation with 'merci, au revoir!' It's brilliant. Too bad my accent isn't clean and my legs aren't long enough to be entirely convincing.

There have been a few bumps in this system, namely trying to order a sandwich the other day at a rest stop. I previously referred to many of the French as knowing at least a little English. This particular sandwich artist at a rest stop in Placewiththescarymarxbrothersstatues, France spoke zero English.

When you're a vegetarian, there is a pretty slim vocabulary for ordering a sandwich: fromage. Cheese. That's it. So I don't know where the confusion came in, but somehow she started making me two sandwiches. I later learned that raising your index finger to indicate 'one' actually means 'two' around here (a thumb means 'one'). I thought I'd ordered one cheese sandwich, but my €9.80 total — about $13.00 — said otherwise. What happened next was language barf until eventually I was eating a carrot and zucchini sandwich. No fromage...no panini...and no Anglais.

I can tell you this is not the worst of it. Just yesterday I decided to send a giant package home, and gathering together a slough of forgotten belongings (useless bricks in my suitcase, etc.) I moseyed to the Avignon post office. This sending of goods was inevitable, however I'd put it off until this stretch of the trip in order to get a better exchange rate (the U.S. dollar is stronger against the Euro, in comparison to the GBP). First order of business was to purchase a box, which the post office had plenty of, and in a bevy of colors. I grabbed the largest box I could find and began assembling it, then queued up to pay. Two minutes waiting and I realized that my box was only for mailing within Europe, and I had to buy an International box, yadda yadda. They didn't have International boxes in the extrajumbotastic size of the European box I was holding, so I attempted to question to the postal worker if they had larger International boxes.

Have you ever talked to a dog? How about a newborn? They're smart creatures, staring back at you with their perplexed eyes and a slight kink in their necks, perhaps a growl or a gurgle; but they have no idea what you're really saying.

I felt awful, the least I could respond to this woman's dire efforts to comprehend me was 'pardon, merci, merci, merci beaucoup.' She was about to tear her hair out, and with good reason. Meanwhile the silly Americans are holding up the line, as locals pile up behind us with their deliveries. At long last I had paperwork in front of me and my credit card swiped. I plunked down on a seat, let out a giant sigh and began cramming my belongings into my 'collosimo' box, then stared blankly at the paperwork — also in French. Great. It never ends.

I listed my residence as the Hotel du Palais des Papes in Avignon. I wrote what I was sending and how much it was worth in Euros, and who I was sending it to, and a million other things. A great hour or so later my box was behind the counter for delivery, and I ate a Nutella ice cream cone to celebrate. Pfffaghhhhhhhhhhh.

Another beautiful three course meal and coffee for dinner, and I was off to a nearby karaoke bar for some singing. I don't know if anyone would believe me if I said I sang three songs last night. I sang three songs last night! There was a little Carly Simon (You're So Vain) some Gloria (I Will Survive) even a little of the B-52's (You can imagine...). The Americans took over the bar, with several French locals here and there to perform their Josh Groban and French love songs. It was a blast.

Today we journied to Arles, about a 45 minute drive from Avignon. Arles holds its fame as a brief dwelling of my boy Vincent Van Gogh, as well as grounds for ancient Roman ruins (which are rare to the Dakotas, but ubiquitous in these parts). Can you imagine walking in a forest in Minnesota and running across a Roman theatre? I can. I can't. I really can't. These ruins are what barns are to the Upper Midwest. Ancient ruins, castles, and original Van Goghs — I feel terrible saying, these no longer phase me.

There was a moment of discernment in the course of this afternoon, as I ate my quatre fromage sandwich in a small village outside of Arles. I was sitting on the ledge of a giant rock wall, right in a nice sunny spot, and I looked down to see hundreds of tiny seashells embedded in the wall, likely the remains of an ancient seabed. I sat there and soaked it up, though there really was nothing to look at but a wall of little shells and a fromage panini, the air and sky, and the walls surrounding me. And nonetheless, I realized I was in France.

I would never experience this back home, just live life from the dodgy/comfy yet questionable easy chair in the corner of Starbucks. They don't tell you how to identify this feeling in my French translation manual. They don't teach you this feeling during abroad orientation. You feel it and you know you're somewhere unbelievable, doing something you won't be able to do forever. Such is life, and so is this experience.

I am absolutely Frenchly knackered, and have a French headache to match. Tomorrow's an early morning with a drive to Cavi de Lavagna, Italy. France has been so fantastic — language aside (which I now have a strong desire to seriously learn) and the hospitality was amazing. I'm sure the same will be said of Italy, with the addition of a Mediterranean Sea.

I need to (re)pack my bags for another excursion!

Love, love, and — amour!

jenny

MER-CI!!

2009-04-27T07:21:00.003+01:00

Bonjour from France!

I've been slow to write since leaving Oxford. We've been drifting through France, our first stop in Paris (as I wrote that extremely lacking post the other night from an Internet café, whilst surrounded by gamers) and now in Avignon.

I don't have much time to write, but I will start by saying it was a long, long day yesterday with nine hours of traveling, from Paris to Avignon. The conditions were rain all the way, so a swell day for being on a bus/sleeping/doing three hours of journaling.

As I am so behind, I really must reflect on the places in France I've seen at this point, namely Paris and Versailles (as outside of that, I suppose I've only seen countryside and rest stops). First and foremost: We simply did not have enough time in Paris. There is so much to experience in a city of those proportions and I did not even scratch the surface. There was a day that I had to myself — I mentioned that I overslept (or rather, my alarm reset itself) and missed the coach to Chartes Cathedral. I spent that day wandering about, but it's hard to know where to even begin. Kind of overwhelming.

Versailles was hands down one of the neatest things I've seen on this trip, and possibly in my lifetime. I know I've abused that phrase throughout my recounts, but honestly. Louis XIV did not mess around when he built that place. Floor to ceiling and everything between is unbelievable, coated in gold and elaborate decoration. The gardens are nothing short of epic, grand, flawless. There were no flowers in bloom during our visit, but I can only imagine.

Avignon is stunning as well. I won't go into detail now as I have not yet toured the city (I will in 20 minutes) but our hotel accommodations are phe-nom-e-nal. Absolutely outstanding. We had a group dinner here last night, a lovely three course meal and wine to welcome us to the city. We are very well taken care of!

I should mention that I am now yet another hour ahead, so +7 difference from Central Time.

Finally:

I'm the one in the giant sunglasses that are swallowing my face. Can't be too careful.

Au revoir!

jc

fourteen minutes

2009-04-25T19:53:00.002+01:00

i am at an internet cafe in paris right now and i have just 13 minutes to tell you about this city:

so beautiful.

france is 19 times more gorgeous than england

(bear with me this french keyboard is very difficult)

i saw the eiffel at night and during the day
the d orsay
the louvre
ate a crepe while walking around notre dame
visited the UNBELIEVABLE GORGEOUS OUTRAGEOUSNESS of versailles (thought of you the whole time holly)
and even overslept for a field trip to chartes cathedral this morning: whoopsies: i roamed paris instead
got the hang of the paris underground (yuck); and ventured solo (daytime of course)
ate nice meals
walked along the river
had interesting experiences with people*
and am trying to adapt to the language barrier (luckily many french know at least some english)

this is my last night here and we go to avignon tomorrow; it will be an evening of friends; wine; and relaxation

love to all

jenny

Goodbye Oxford / Hello Paris

2009-04-22T23:20:00.000+01:00

The Glory, the Glory!

2009-04-21T03:41:00.005+01:00

Happy day! I took to London once again this afternoon, and squeezed in a quick visit to the British Library. For starters it wasn't the glorious, ancient structure I'd expected, but rather a semi-ugly totally dated (opinion) brick building circa 1998 (see here). Nothing brawny like the British Museum, that seems to ooze BAM! I was kind of put off by the BL, until I remembered "it's what's on the inside that counts." (Cue cheesy music.) Much roaming and question-asking finally brought me to the only relevant room in the building, a small space housing a decent collection of significant something-or-others. The majority of these documents were absolutely insignificant to me, though there was a handful I thoroughly enjoyed: Original Beatles' lyrics scribbled on envelopes, paper, napkins, and what have you; the Lindisfarne Gospels; a draft of a Sylvia Plath poem (who I discovered has beautiful penmanship); Captain James Cook's journal (who has some of the most beautiful penmanship I've ever seen); Lewis Carroll's journal; and manuscripts from Bach, Mozart, and Handel's 'Messiah', even Beethoven's tuning fork. A special room housed an original copy of the Magna Carta, which seemed familiar to me. I quickly realized that I had seen another copy of it during a visit to Salisbury a few weeks ago (there are four copies still around).

I met up with a friend for a late dinner, and arrived back in Oxford at an early 0200 after saying goodbye to London for good. In all I've visited five times, so it's not sad to go. I feel that I accomplished most everything I wanted to in the city — for now, at least.

I've just one lecture left, exams on Wednesday, followed by a farewell dinner in the evening. Then Thursday morning…I leave for Paris! Paris!

Until then — it's beautiful here, and I plan to sprawl out in the park tomorrow and eat coconut ice cream. Ahh, the glory of it all!

Love each and every one of you.

xo
jc

P.S. - Sorry for all of the Wiki links...

Praise Be!

2009-04-19T23:07:00.000+01:00

I feel I am getting a little lazy on my updates, but things have been somewhat wild. I am always on the move, and when not on the move, I want to move and make the most of each moment. This is not a place to sit still and stare at a computer screen, but a place to get out and breathe the world and everything around. I want to soak this place up while I can.

Being my last Sunday in Oxford, there was no way I was going to sleep in. I'd considered attending service at Christ Church Cathedral once again, then reconsidered and decided on another church. My professor had made mention of St. Aldate's, a contemporary (Anglican) church across the street from CCC. I wanted to give it a try and made it just in time for the 10:30 worship. Two hours of singing, praising, and glorifying later I was back on the street.

What happened at St. Aldates? They certainly had a rocking rock band, and the laity I'd only seen in movies: parishioners throwing up their hands in praise, singing with every breath that God gave them. The first forty-five minutes was solid singing. After that, there was a sign of peace. The man next to me, who had been ex-treme-ly uncomfortable during the entirety of the chorus, turned to me and introduced himself. "Good morning, I'm David."

There was an American lay person that gave the sermon, followed by more singing. Suddenly I saw from the corner of my eye and heard with my ears, David came out of his shell. He was singing loud and hard, louder and harder than the others around us, and I could see the tension and hesitation evaporate as he threw up his arms. He held them in the air higher and longer than anyone else, and after a minute he recoiled them to his body. Make no mistake, David had wanted to do this all along — I could see, and he could see that I saw. And he felt good about it.

At the very end of the service, the "clergy" (though I don't believe that's a correct title for the leaders of this worship) invited those that desired to talk about their worries and sufferings, to come forth and speak with an appointed member of the church. There were about a dozen lined up along the front of the seats, waiting silent for strained souls to make overtures. A group trickled toward them and I could see David, hesitant, reborn David, hankering to do the same. Within several minutes he slid past me and advanced to the front. I stood and sang 'Amazing Grace' as I watched David bring a man to tears from his words.

St. Aldate's was friendly, with open arms and abundant exaltation. And David.

Lunch at the Jericho Cáfe was next in line. I've probably mentioned this place a time or two, because I've been meaning to visit it since day two. It's located in — yes — Jericho, and is better known (to me at least) as the place where Radiohead had their beginnings. And you pay for it too — this place was a pricey lunch. I was craving a full-blown Sunday breakfast like I'm used to back home: eggs, hashbrowns, toast, the whole bit. I settled for a falafel instead.

Shopping in the afternoon, where I bought two great albums for £10: Ray LaMontagne's latest 'Gossip in the Grain', and classic Van Morrison 'Astral Weeks.' A book in the tall, green grasses of the sunny park, dinner and long, long walk to Summertown completed my evening. Well — there was a glass of wine at The Eagle and Child, too.

Tomorrow, another day closer to surveying the continent!

Goodnight,
jc

London, Episode IV: Walking the Walk, Umbrella-less.

2009-04-17T23:59:00.002+01:00

Short update, because I need sleep more than ever.

Today I once again conquered London. I didn't do everything as planned, but it was fantastic nonetheless. The British Museum was my first stop — it was CRAZY crowded (anyone who knows me well can tell you how I feel about excessive amounts of people / screaming children), and I had the most massive headache I've had in…a long time. So I kept that short, saw plenty of ancient Assyrian and Egyptian artifacts, decoded the Rosetta Stone (it's whatever) and called it good. Off to lunch.

Made my way to Covent Garden for a sandwich, then beat around the many narrow streets lined with shops I can hardly afford to look into the window of. Nice, nonetheless. Rain came around, and I made the really awesome decision of leaving my umbrella at home ("too bulky" I said). I was sorry. It was fortunate, however, that another museum was on my agenda: the striking Tate Modern. I was excited that not only did I once more get to see the glory of nearby St. Paul's Cathedral, but also I ventured to the Tate via the snazzy space age Millenium Bridge.

The Tate was staggering, located in an old warehouse-turned-super hip modern art museum. I still had a headache, but managed to see and enjoy the likeness of many Picasso's, Monet's, Pollock's, Matisse's, Rothko's, Warhol's, etc. I was even more ecstatic to see a room exhibiting contact sheets and works of photographer Robert Frank, as well as a ton of amusing sculpture.

From there, it was Abbey Road. I've had this on the top of my London 'must-sees' since I arrived, and being that it's one of the last times I'll be visiting the city, I figured I'd better catch it. It was surprisingly easy to find (note: just ask the cute boy working the Beatles memorabilia stand at the Underground station). A few blocks walk from the station and BAM! Epic crosswalk. Of course there are many fanatics trying to take the all-too-cliché/totally cool/CLASSIC walk across Abbey Road. I am pleased to say that I am one of these fools! As I was solo, I conned several other fanatics into taking a snap of me making the cross. I'm famous!

I caught a glimpse of Abbey Road Studios (looks like a house to me), walked across the crosswalk about eight more times (seriously) then took to finding dinner. I forgot that it is Friday. I ended up going to a really hip restaurant on the South Bank near the London Eye, called Ping Pong, that served up awesome Chinese. Awkward eating by myself, but fantastic nonetheless. Two thumbs up for that.

Then there was Westminster at night, a sight I had yet to behold. Ben and Parliament look lovely in the evening.

I'd say it was a pretty swell day. Tomorrow I am taking to the shores of Portsmouth, to see the Royal Naval Dockyard, historic ships, etc. The traveling never ceases! I don't hate it.

Love to all, and take good care!
jc

2009-04-16T23:36:00.001+01:00

The days are truly numbered here. I'm trying to soak everything in, but I've been feeling very stressed lately. I had a nice walk this afternoon — it was misty out so my hair went into sponge mode and sopped the droplets right up. Now I have big(ger) hair. I grabbed a cup of chai and sat down to read a book — something I haven't done in a long, long time. My attention span lasted for 10 pages, until I again moved to weave through the streets that have become second nature to me.

I didn't make it to London today. There was a rather large group headed to see the play, and I felt better about sticking around Oxford for the evening. Next week I am thinking of instead going to see The Lion King, as I have heard rave reviews of the performance (then again, I suppose this goes for most of them at the theatre). I am definitely making it a London day tomorrow and have quite the extensive plan, beginning at Abbey Road and perhaps a stroll through Hyde Park, and ending (hopefully) with a stroll on Oxford Street and dinner in Soho. There are, of course, museums, snacks, and sights squeezed between (British Museum, Tate Modern, etc). I'm excited to take on the city by myself again.

Alas, the sad list of restaurants that I wish to indulge in before I leave is growing, with scarce time to delight in them all. I'm aiming to escape from the cafeteria food and catch a good Indian dish one of these nights.

That's all, really —

More soon.
jc

Botanical Fanatical (how original)

2009-04-15T23:40:00.000+01:00

Originally uploaded by approximately_yes

I made an effort to get up early this morning, and roamed around the city centre. This was something I hadn't done in a long, long time and walking around in the A.M. made me realize how much I miss it, and how greatly I should do it more often. An Oxford morning is one of my favorite things.

I went to Blackwell's (fantastic bookstore here) and did something incredibly outrageous — I bought a book. Spending money has never been a problem for me, but rarely do I spend it on such a luxury as a book; it's just not something I think to do. Today I bought Jack Kerouac's 'On the Road' — a "modern classic" the cover claims, so I'm hoping the first book I'll read in roughly half a year is a good one. Purchasing a read seemed like a good idea as I'll need something to pass the time when we hit the road for Paris next week. This should get me started during my adventures.

Later on in the afternoon I checked out Oxford's Botanical Gardens. It was really beautiful here, mid-60's I suppose, and sunshine all the while — a perfect day to stroll through the gardens. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

After dinner I took to a film at the Phoenix Picture House in Jericho, a small theatre that generally plays foreign, lesser-known films. It was titled 'Let the Right One In,' a Swedish film about 12-year old vampires. There is nothing about this scenario that appeals to me. First, I'm not crazy about movies, and also haven't the least bit of interest in vampires — so it's very curious that I decided to go on my own accord. An interesting flick and…thank goodness for subtitles!

The plan for tomorrow is London, with perusing in the afternoon and looking to catch 'Wicked' in the evening. I am going to try to make it there several more times during my last week here...

Apologies for lack of Ireland coverage. It will come sooner or later — I am having such a hard time putting the experience to words.

Take good care, friends

xo
jc

2009-04-14T23:35:00.000+01:00

One of my favorite things to do here.

2009-04-13T23:52:00.000+01:00

More tomorrow…

The Big Bad Chronicles of Shammrockin' Junkets through the Land of Leprechauns (The Irish Edition)

2009-04-13T18:59:00.012+01:00

Ireland is a place I'd always kept near the top of my must-see destinations, right up there with Zanzibar, Antarctica and a Swiss chocolate factory. Hand me nearly a week of free time to travel at leisure, and naturally I will make one of these my destination.

Ireland "Picturesque" was all I could envision; greens and rolling hills, wide open spaces and blue water. I must say, I was right on the money.

We set off on Thursday morning, jumped three trains through Wales and then finally, a ferry (cousin of a cruise ship, complete with crazy overpriced concessions and comfy chairs) from Holyhead to the Dublin port. It was a long, but really cool journey. I'm glad we took the train/ferry route, as I saw English countryside and got to feel like I was on the Titanic.

The Ulysses brought us safely to Ireland.

WE. MADE. IT! My travel buddies Shayla and Kayla and I greet Ireland!

On the ferry, freshly arrived in windy Dublin.

After jumping a bus to the Dublin city centre, my travel companions and I tracked down hostel numero uno. I was a bit sketched out because we'd arranged to stay in a mixed room of 18 people. Awkward would describe this, also uncomfortable; we were surrounded by men in their 30's to 50's, many whose faces I never saw, only their shape under a comforter. I might have slept with an eye open, and even with my belongings securely locked up, I felt slightly paranoid. This was just for an evening, luckily, and the next morning we trekked to our departure point to begin our 3-day bus tour of Northern Ireland.

Groggy, greasy, and half awake, I boarded our coach, surrounded by the unfamiliarity of foreign faces and idiom. My awareness kept me awake, and soon I became accustomed to the context, and the Irish countryside.

Within the first hour of driving, I witnessed not one but two rainbows. It was like something straight out of a Lucky Charms commercial, minus the leprechaun. That day included a number of stops to our destination, Derry: a trip to the twelfth century Anglo Norman Trim Castle, then a long hike to the top of an epic hill to see the prehistoric tombs at Lough Crew. We ventured through Enniskillen and Omagh, two Northern towns with a violent history between Republicans and Loyalists.

That evening in Derry we got the low down on the history of the city, from medieval times to the recent protests (Derry is the site of Bloody Sunday), and visited many murals and Bogside where the fatal incidents occurred. A acutely grave experience, but extremely insightful. I felt very naive in my ignorance, having maintained I should know these things that are going on around the world.

The tour's end led a group to a fantastic restaurant, where I had my first taste of goat's cheese, rizotto, and pea and lentil soup. And of course, a night in Ireland must be capped by a visit to the local pub. The one we went to was packed, with live music, the whole bit. Locals everywhere having a wild evening about the town, and plenty of drink. I enjoyed a cider and got to know the others I was on tour with, before heading back for a night of sleep at a less sketchy hostel (no more of that 18 person room business)!

Saturday was chilly. We made our way to the coast en route to Belfast. A coastal drive led us to the 16th century Dunlace Castle perched at the extreme edge of a cliff on the Antrim Coast (legend claims that during a party one evening, the kitchen collapsed into the sea). From there it was just minutes to Giant's Causeway, brilliant stones and beautiful water. It was so incredibly cold, but I forced myself to enjoy the moment. I knew I was lucky to be in such a place.

At Giant's Causeway, Antrim Coast.

Perfect stones at Giant's Causeway. God only knows how this was formed.

The pace changed as we visited the world's oldest whiskey distillery, Bushmill's, which has been around since 1608. I didn't drink (whiskey, yuck!) just enjoyed watching others sample.

Hours later we made it into Belfast, and rested up before catching a nice dinner (across the street from the Hotel Europa, Belfast's most bombed building). We moved to a pub next door that was absolutely decked to the nines, floor to ceiling, with character. Again, a great Irish atmosphere. I turned in early, but not to the sound of silent streets; rather, sirens and voices could be heard from below, all through the night. Belfast never sleeps.

Hotel Europa, infamous for bombing.

And then it was Easter. The morning brought a "Black Cab Tour" of Belfast — our group was escorted around in, you guessed it — black cabs. We visited the infamous neighborhoods of the city, where all sorts of chaos has occurred throughout the past decades, even up to today. The giant barrier between Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods is smothered with graffiti expressing the wishes for peace. By the sounds of the tour guides, the people of Northern Ireland are still scraping for harmony and normalcy in their lives.

Wall in Belfast separating conflicting neighborhoods.

Murals in Belfast.

Glass scattered on the grounds of a Protestant neighborhood in Belfast. You can see in the distance some of the many murals painted on the sides of buildings, commemorating those that lost their lives amongst the conflict.

We slipped out of Belfast in the afternoon, Dublin bound once again. Several of the girls on the tour placed Easter chocolate on our seats in the bus, and this was a highlight of the day. I am so used to having all of the Easter trimmings: eggs, candy, maybe a new pair of socks. A treat made the day feel like a Holiday, and not another day roaming through Irish countryside (not that there's anything wrong with that...!). Nevertheless, it was really neat to spend Easter in a foreign country with a bunch of strangers.

Small town Ireland, on our way to Dublin.

Pit stop at Monasterboice.

I was looking forward to a night in Dublin, though ventures were somewhat dampened by our 6 a.m. flight back to London. I drank my first Guinness* (I wasn't going to leave Ireland without doing so) at the Temple Bar, whilst listening to a wonderful Irish trio play authentic tunes, surrounded by others wallowing in libations. Again, I felt as though I were in a movie. Zig-zagging through the lanes of the city, amidst street lights and celebration, music, and inebriation. It was a strange, beautiful thing. Dublin is strangely beautiful in this sense, that in my opinion, there is not much to say about the landscape itself, but rather the events that take place. By day the setting is monochrome, almost sullen under oft-gray sky, and come evening, it exists in vast color. There is nothing like it, or perhaps — nothing that I have seen.

My first Guinness, at Temple Bar in Dublin.

Atmosphere of Temple Bar

Dublin street

Evening in Dublin. This made me so happy, to see all of these people having a good time!

Evening progressed all too suddenly. A few quick hours of sleep at the hostel and my companions and I were in a taxi, on our way. A plane, then bus ride throughout the afternoon set us in Oxford entirely exhausted.

But Ireland — oh my. What land! What lovely, lovely land.

2009-04-12T17:32:00.002+01:00

I just arrived back in Dublin after three glorious days of touring Northern Ireland. I would love to spill every detail right now, but unfortunately am typing from my iPod and it would take forever. I wish I could spend Easter with my family, and it is very weird not doing so. Nevertheless I am having the time of my life in this country. Ireland is truly something else completely apart from what I've experienced in England.

This is my fourth and last night in a hostel before we fly back to London tomorrow. I am looking forward to an Easter night on the town - a nice pub in Temple Bar with friends, good food, live music, and perhaps a bit 'o Guinness!

Love to all, and a grand Easter!

Xo
Jenny

What the "feck" I'm up to...

2009-04-11T00:17:00.003+01:00

I made it to Ireland. Last evening at the hostel in Dublin was very interesting. Tonight we are in Derry, having a grand time with the tour group...onward tomorrow to see more of this beautiful country! Too much to write, but everything is amazing!

Love to 'ya

xo
jc

Back and Forth, Forth and Back

2009-04-09T00:28:00.008+01:00

I just returned from a day in Warwick (pronounced War-rick) and Stratford-upon-Avon.

Two things today:

a. I climbed to the top of a castle

and

2. I saw a Shakespeare play performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company…in Shakespeare's hometown (that's a lot of 'Shakespeare').

View from top of Warwick Castle.

Eight hours of stairs later...YES!!

When in Stratford-upon-Avon, do wear fresh flowers in your hair.

OVERJOYED to be standing in front of the home where WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was birthed. Really.

I'm spent, and I need to get packed/rested for my big journey tomorrow to the Emerald Isle. Whoooo! I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this!

We depart via train at 0800 (2 a.m. CT), then have a layover before ferrying out. I believe we should arrive sometime around 1600. I am taking just a carry on bag so it's going to be tight packing. Tomorrow evening I will be staying in a hostel in Dublin, and sleeping with my belongings as I am sharing a room with 18 mixed strangers. I am excited with uncertainty!

If I don't post in the next few days (I likely won't have I-net access), I wish everyone a fantastic Easter loaded with family/friends/pets/etc. I know I will be missing my favorite "Progressive Easter" that my family puts on, with wonderful food and even better company! You'll be in my thoughts on Sunday!

Love, and of course as they say here, "cheers"!

xo
jc

London, Episode III: Conquering Single-Handedly.

2009-04-08T00:55:00.005+01:00

THIS PAST AUGUST I DID what was, at the time, something incredibly daring for a little lady: I jumped in my car and drove unaccompanied to Minneapolis for the day. Of course I was disoriented for most of the journey, though made it back in one five-foot-one-inch chunk, feeling more of an adult.

I can safely say that today this affair was upstaged. For just after realizing that I indeed had an afternoon free of lecture and nothing to fill my hours, I decided to board a bus to London…by myself.

The strangest part about this endeavor was, I didn't have any idea where I was going and at the same time, I wasn't the least bit scared. I tossed my Rick Steve's Best of Europe 2009 book into my purse, a pocket sized map of the London Underground, and on my way to the station stopped by Wendy's News on High Street to pick up a London map. Then I got on the bus. I didn't think about getting on the bus, and I didn't think about where I was going, or what I was doing. I just got on.

There I sat, on the top of the double decker, in the very first row. I spread out my maps and books, and for the hour ride I studied the city as though I were to be tested in 60 minutes and I absolutely could not fail. When my stop came, I felt confident and primed for an adventure. I jumped off and like a magnet, made my way to the Underground to purchase my day pass to ride. From there it was all a slice of London; a smooth, tasty slice of London.

I'd been dying to see St. Paul's Cathedral since arrival, and so planned it as my first venture. One of my courses has me studying a nice bit of Sir Christopher Wren, the great architect that redesigned a chunk of London after the Great Fire of London destroyed a good deal of the city in 1666. St. Paul's is Wren's masterpiece, and honestly, I'm not certain that he, or anyone, could have exceeded this effort in his lifetime. Years of planning and building erected a wonder, and I wanted to see it straightaway.

Getting off at the nearest station, I rounded a corner and saw it assembled before me.

I wish…I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you what I felt. I wish you could feel it, and see it, and understand. I will try.

Think of the biggest building you've seen, be it a football stadium or a Walmart or what have you. Now multiply that building by two or three, change it two Portland stone and decorate it, in the same manner that icing adorns cakes. Embellish it with grand doors and elaborate stairs, columns, the works. Stand before this great structure, and feel the vigor that it secretes from the foundation to the highest point of it's dome.

I already was feeling emotional, and I had yet to see the inside.

It takes a good amount to procure this kind of sentiment from me, but when I walked through the doors I — literally — nearly cried. Call me trite, I know — it's a just a cathedral. I can say without a spot of disbelief, it is the most beautiful building I have ever been in. I circled the aisles for a while, looking from wall to wall, floor to ceiling and thinking of all the great people and events that must have traced the same sectors. And tread upon tread, I had my breath stolen. It is a masterpiece — humbling, epic, divine and beautiful. I could have stayed there for hours.

St. Paul's West Entrance. Glorious.

From the Southeast.

Lovely dome! Ooooo....ahhhh...

NICE WORK WREN!

A photo that I conned a friendly woman into taking. Awkward!

Alas I wandered on, stealing away to the Monument, and further to the Tower of London. I crossed the London Bridge, then jumped the Tube to Oxford Circus for a bit of, well…shopping. This was a tad ridiculous, but I will not argue. I had a great time spending money.

Tower of London. Pictures don't do it justice, I promise!

Tower Bridge. Holy moley!

See — I was there!

"I made it to the Tower of London."

View from the London Bridge, looking toward Tower Bridge.

A timeout for a quick meal ensued, before Tubing back to my bus stop and making the hour journey back to Oxford. There is hardly a single thing I would have changed about the day. I was in heaven the entire time!

So it is, that on this day I forced myself out of a great comfort zone, and into one of most gigantic cities in Europe. And I loved every moment of it.

I am very proud of myself!

Tomorrow I have decided to go to Stratford-upon-Avon with my group, with a side trip to Warwick Castle (-cough- TOURIST TRAP -cough-). I am going to postpone my Wicked viewing/London exploration for another week. It's not every day you get the opportunity to visit the birthplace of Shakespeare!

Whew. I loved today.

Cheers,
jc

London, Episode II: The Down Low

2009-04-06T22:02:00.008+01:00

london, 2009.04.05
Originally uploaded by approximately_yes

THE PROBLEM WITH LONDON IS, outside of being magnificent, it's so gigantic that you can feel it swallowing you. The city laughs at you, because it finds it hilarious that there is so much within it that you'll never get to see. And also too, London leaves one tuckered out (I'd say the equivalent feeling of a dog's chew toy) so you are left with zero energy to share your adventures.

We landed (alright, we were on a bus) in London around 1030 yesterday morning, once again blessed with beautiful weather. I took off at the Notting Hill Gate stop. First order of business was cappuccino, and I entered the first Non-Starbucks establishment I saw (love Starbucks, but I am boycotting them while I'm here). A quiet, cute café with a super cheesy sign out front. Perfect. When we walked in, I realized that the place was a tribute to Princess Di, and the walls were plastered with her image. I bought a terrible 0.90p cappuccino (you really do get what you pay for) and was off to wander the beautiful neighborhoods of Notting Hill.

I immediately loved this area. First, it is 18 million times cuter and quieter than touristy Central London. The people walking down the streets actually look like LOCALS! And there is character abound: colorful houses, buildings, and shops.

The only plan for Notting Hill was to get lost in it, which was a great idea since we eventually ended up at the Portobello Market. What a FANTASTIC thing to stumble upon!! Portobello is supposedly one of the top tourist attractions in London. I'd heard of it, but wow. Literally, one of the neatest things I've experienced. The shops had their goods on the sidewalks, hoards of antiques, jewelry, clothing, and knick knacks. There were so many goods I wish I could have bought. There was SO much. It is truly a traveler's woe, to see all of those things and know you cannot fit them in a suitcase. Nevertheless, I bought a beautiful dress.

More wandering, and we eventually found a Tube station. I was overcome with a nervous excitement, as I'd never ridden on the London Underground, though I'd heard only excellent things. A mere £5.40 gets you around at lightning speed for an entire day — and the system is fool-proof: color-coded, well organized and slick. Everything is glorious and self-explanatory. To sweeten the deal, the Underground system uses a beautiful font throughout, and displays great artwork around the stations. You really, really can't go wrong.

I didn't do too much in the evening outside of eating a wonderful lunch at the Victoria & Albert museum before perusing the works, and a bit of exploring the South Bank. Surprisingly my feet still managed to wear out.

I believe I am going again on Wednesday, for more exploring and to see Wicked in the evening. On Thursday I am jumping the train + ferry (we decided on the scenic route) to Ireland for Easter.

All is calm here — and hopefully, all is well with all you lovelies and mates across the ocean!

xo
jc

2009-04-05T22:12:00.000+01:00

London:

An amazingly ginormous
absolutely wonderful
and completely exhausting city.

I. Am. Tired.

Update later.
Goodnight.

Nonstop.

2009-04-04T23:22:00.007+01:00

burford village
Originally uploaded by approximately_yes

This is a snap from today, about 0930 this morning in Burford Village a half hour from Oxford. It's a Cotswold Village, meaning a quaint town compiled of hundreds of dwellings made of honey colored stone that dates back centuries. Burford is certainly a quintessential English settlement.

We weren't in Burford for very long, just 45 minutes and I unfortunately never made it beyond the Church graveyard. There were hundreds of old stones — hundreds — and so much beauty, character, with a healthy dosage of eeriness. I was shooting the entire time, and never truly felt that I got what I wanted (hence me sticking around for so long, attempting to capture something magnificent). The sun was really gorgeous in the early morning, casting shadows from so many interesting flowers and trees.

Church cemetary, Burford Village. The trees were so unlike anything I've seen before.

Detail on headstone.

We boarded the bus and made our way to Bath. It was nothing of what I'd expected: It was better. Bath is so gorgeous, surrounded by hills dotted with old buildings. The countryside leading into the city was the greenest I've ever seen. And the Roman Baths themselves were quite beautiful. Bath is a very historic, posh city — I'd only wished I could have spent more time there.

The MSU Moorhead group at the Royal Crescent, Bath.

Catching some b-e-a-tiful (and much-needed) sunshine at the Roman Baths!

A quick shot from overhead. I don't know why my camera changed everything strange colors. Maybe the healing waters have that effect on things...

I took plenty of photos, but I'm having issues with my camera/computer. I'll try not to get too behind on posting. I've been busy.

Speaking of busy, I'm really exhausted and need to get some sleep for a big day in London tomorrow, where I plan to traverse the Notting Hill area, visit the British Museum, Albert and Victoria, and explore Central London, catch some great city night life and make it home in time for bed...

Love.

Improv Show

2009-04-03T23:46:00.001+01:00

Quick note:

Last night I went to an outstanding improv show at the Burton-Taylor Studio in Oxford. I volunteered myself and the group sang to me as their final act!

Afterward we got a photo with the improv guys — they were elated to meet "American Girls"!

And speaking of American girls...

Thank goodness for Skype!

Much more later!

Jenny

2009-04-03T23:09:00.000+01:00

It's a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

2009-04-02T23:23:00.000+01:00

She is liberty
And she comes to rescue me
Hope, faith, her vanity
The greatest gift is gold

April Cool

2009-04-01T23:13:00.016+01:00

Quick update of the day's activities

After lecture a group of Eurospringers went PUNTING. Many may not be familiar — I know I wasn't before I came here. Punting is essentially gliding along in a silly little flat-bottom boat man-powered by a pole. The river was about 13-ish feet deep with a muddy bottom so the pole would occasionally get stuck. It was very cool and extremely fun and relaxing! We were on the River Cherwell, which turned into the Thames midway through the trip.

Punts lined along the Cherwell outside of the University Botanical Gardens.

Just leaving land — unsure if we'll make it back!

There was one guy on our punt and we made him do all of the "punting"; however, I did give it a try! It's very difficult for a little lady!

Me in command — we didn't get too far, but did hit a few walls and trees!

Like I said — RELAXING!

In the evening, I joined a group to Christ Church Cathedral for excellent choral evensong. The service was about 45 minutes of song, scripture and prayer by many talented voices!

Our group (and Dr. Chapman, too!) in the Christ Church Courtyard after the evensong.

The group — including MSUM professor Thom, who accompanied us on Eurospring, ate at Wagamama afterward (see earlier mention — I really like this place!) where I had fantastic yasai itame in a coconut-based soup, and for dessert the BEST THING I've eaten since I arrived: Coconut reika, a coconut ice cream with mango sauce, coconut shavings, and mint. UN. BE. LIEVABLE.

Coconut reika. Impossibly delicious.

A night cap followed at the Lamb & Flag pub! The perfect ending to a productive day.

Thom, Kayla and I enjoying libations at the Lamb & Flag.

I was thinking of going to London today to see a play, but with the G20 protests, I don't want to run into any sort of chaos. I am going again on Sunday instead. ( ! )

Other than that, things are very well and I am continuing to adapt to this European lifestyle. I am, however, counting down the days until the grand tour!

muchlove.
jc

Things I Can Live Without / Can't Live Without, Part I

2009-04-01T10:54:00.007+01:00

Yes, my life can be more simple. And I like it that way.

Things I can live without:

• A bathrobe
• Cell phone
• A car
• 98% of my jewelry
• 92% of my makeup
• 97% of my clothes
• 95% of my shoes
• More than 8 oz. of shampoo and conditioner

Things I (don't think) I can deal without:

• Several crucial hair products (for the sake of frizz reduction)
• My journals
• One scarf
• Schroeder (computer)
• My boots
• Daily café visit
• And my new favorite — orange flavored Kit Kat bars. I will be bringing A LOT of these back.

One of the best things to happen since I've arrived (yes, that good)!

Being here has made me realize how many things I own that are completely unnecessary.

London, Episode I

2009-03-29T23:21:00.003+01:00

Here is an update on my London adventures!

Our bus driver missed his turn at Victoria Station in London, and decided to stop in the middle of the road, kick it in reverse and attempt to turn around. This doesn't work well with a bus. The result: Uprooted street sign. Whoopsies!

Oh hey! I made it to London, just hanging out with Queenie at Buckingham Palace. Little did my companion and I know, we'd actually made it just in time for the changing of the guard! YIKES!

Hello, London!

This is for you. You know who you are.

My big boy, Ben! Eeeee!

Standing along the Thames, with the infamous London Eye tourist trap in the distance. We didn't fall for it!

Holla from Trafalgar Square! National Gallery! LONDON!

Trafalfar Square. I am half as tall as Nelson's Column! How about that!

Eating a DELICIOUS dessert at Candy Cakes — a blueberry muffin coated in beautiful, tasty icing! Cute.

I made it to Soho. I was a happy lady.

London was incredible. What an amazing city! I am planning another journey there next Sunday, with many new things to do on my list.

I walked about 20 miles today and am absolutely beat. My photos from the day are going weird on me so…more later!

love
jc

Rocks and Rolling (Through the English Countryside We Go)

2009-03-28T21:27:00.008Z

I had a really spectacular day visiting Avebury, Stonehenge, and Salisbury! We took the coach through the English countryside and got a true taste of the area — sheep, horses, and varieties of soil drenching the vast farmlands. Avebury was our first stop, where we viewed some ancient stones, perused the fields, and ate tea and crumpets (or at least I did!)

Me…with some important…old…rocks.

A quaint little town. Half of the population are boulders!

Dr. Allan Chapman is my professor from the U of Oxford. He was also our tour guide today, and consumed 4-6 cups of tea in an afternoon's time.

A short visit to Avebury (as there wasn't much to see) brought us back on the road to more renowned things, better known as the most famous rocks in the world:

Stonehenge. Self-explanatory. I truly was thrilled to be there, but for the sake of the photo, I figured I should play stoic. Rocks don't smile.

Your Windows ready-made desktop wallpaper. Go ahead. (Copyright 2009, jc)

Hi, Mom and Dad!

After taking 360 photos of Stonehenge (because no visit is complete without taking one from each degree you can walk around it — a.k.a. 360 of the same photos) we ventured up the trail to beautiful Salisbury. As it turns out, this place has a GIANT medieval cathedral. And it is absolutely breathtakingly old, and beautiful. Consecrated in 1258, this baby is now 751 years old. Good God!

Good grief. Photos don't do this place, or its size, any justice.

This is a self portrait I took in the courtyard of the cathedral. I was actually standing in the midst of a ton of graves, but the opportunity was too beautiful to pass up.

That concluded the day! Tomorrow brings on a bigger journey — London!

LONDON!

Excited.

Goodnight —
jc

Jericho

2009-03-27T23:39:00.000Z

to jericho
Originally uploaded by approximately_yes

Afternoon early
Late morning, amble up North Parade
Connect to Woodstock, shift
Observatory, lined with pastel
cars
and characters.

And therein, a transition
Retract the colors at the corner
at the café, at the dog
along the wall
on the sidewalk.

There!
Pacing over
the brick, heels clicking
Stepping along with every glance
A post office, publisher
Exotic food and art
Drizzling from windows
Eyes wander, wonder
where to start.

In Jericho.

That aside…

2009-03-27T13:39:00.005Z

I didn't get to catch up last evening on the events of my Thursday. It was a long, productive day and when at last I did sleep, I slept very well. Mostly because I was exhausted, but also with the excitement that I get a change of sheets and fresh towels today. Wycliffe has been extremely accommodating and my living arrangement is outstanding.

Which is why I was upset when I woke up to learn that students had displayed some disrespectful behaviors in the night. The domestic bursar (a general manager of Wycliffe) and janitor were examining and cleaning this morning from the night's disorder.

This is really embarrassing to me as a student also living in Wycliffe. The staff has kindly allowed us the utter takeover of their space: the bedrooms, dining hall, common areas, computers, and lecture rooms, all for our use. They have been so kind as to listen to our suggestions as far as food goes, and fix our housing problems to make our stay comfortable. They should not have to clean up anyone's untidiness after a hard night out.

I don't want to be seen as an unmannerly American, and hopefully the actions of few will not be assumed as the behaviors of all.

That aside, yesterday was very wonderful. I didn't make it for my walk along the Thames in the morning, but instead took a stroll under cloudy skies through the nearby University Park. After lecture I took to the top of St. Mary's Cathedral, where I saw beautiful views of Oxford. The most curious thing about my experience at St. Mary's was the oddity of the weather. As a friend and I walked to the church, the weather conditions were fine. We climbed the stairs (an narrow spiral staircase!) to the peak, and just as we reached the top it began to sprinkle, and then rain hard. Strong gusts of wind came in and pounded the sheets of rain at us. The small storm carried on, and we made our way back down to the main level. When we walked out minutes later, the rain and wind had passed. It was very strange, and gave me somewhat of a feeling of a divine presence. I would go as far as to say that.

Up to the top!

We stood right above the clock.

Views from the top, right before it began raining

To kill time before our tour of the Bodleian Library, Kayla and I visited the Museum of the History of Science. It's a small museum, and a large number of early astrological tools, and devices used for keeping time were on display. There were instruments and chemicals used during the early trials of penicillin in Oxford, Lewis Carroll's (Alice in Wonderland) camera, and Einstein's blackboard.

Einstein's blackboard at the History of Science Museum.

The Bodleian Library was a treat. For a £4 tour, you can almost feel like a student, wandering through the University's main library. I have never seen books so old in my life — the kind that you see in photos and movies. Speaking of movies, the Bodleian was the library used in the Harry Potter films. We had a really cute Parisian tour guide, that was so adorable I had to take a video of her. I am a creep!

Standing in a main area of the library at the Bodleian. Cameras weren't allowed in the library itself, as students were studying.

Our tour guide at the Bodleian. Funny!

Shopping ensued afterward. I found a nifty store with greaaaat deals, and made a few purchases. The downside to shopping is getting it home. I already know that in order to purchase things, I will have to a) ship things back to the States or 2) leave things I brought with me behind. Kind of puts a damper on shopping.

The night ended with friends at the Turf Tavern, where I bumped into some friendly folk from the U of Georgia that gave me plenty of insight on the area!

Yay!

xo
jc

Middle of…the Market

2009-03-25T23:47:00.009Z

ANY TIME I HEAR OF a gathering of vendors, I can assure you that I am in the midst of it.

Of course when I heard of Market I got a little excited. I'd hardly started my morning tea before I dismissed it, and marched out the door to Gloucester Green. The courtyard was in transition to a bazaar as I passed yesterday and seen the tents set up — all that was missing were the merchants and the goods they'd peddle until the rain set in.

At 9:30 I arrived. Sad to say, it was quite the disappointment. While the fruit and vegetables were wonderful in fact, I didn't feel the need to buy any. Other tents held various items, many of use to a traveling college student: cushioned shoes for the older folk, gobs of polyester pants and shirts, checkered skirts and striped knee socks. Cheap jewelry and old CD's (I was elated to find a Hanson Middle of Nowhere album, and my personal favorite Skankin' Sausages by the Catch-It Kebobs), bags and bags of candy still in their cardboard box, certainly bought at a bulk rate and marked up to a hefty £l a bag. Not even the candy was enticing! I would best describe the Market as a glorified outdoor dollar store-meets-unnecessary items strategically placed near all checkouts— things, cheaply made, that no one needs, just sees and thinks, "Hey, a pair of striped tube socks. I might need those sometime."

A friend and I decided to make our way to the Covered Market, Oxford's own "unequaled shopping experience." It was, indeed, a "shopping experience", though certainly not unequaled. There were highlights and a certain sense of uniqueness amongst the shops and cafés, but many of the vendors were rather cheesy, I thought. The best part about this market were the butchers, fish mongers, and cake decorators. A massive pile of fresh fish heads stared at passerbys, and lobsters crawled in a tank. You could smell the livelihood — or, rather "deadlihood" — of the fresh catches. There was definitely a variety; I saw everything from purses, to jars of goat fat, salt and pepper shakes, and my favorite delectable cookies, still warm and gooey! I bought an orange chocolate chip cookie at market to go with my mint chai. One of my favorite breakfasts thus far.

I'd escaped two markets purchasing just a cookie. I felt…pathetic.

The bus station was right around the corner, so I conveniently purchased my bus pass to London. I bought a "Tube 12", the equivalent of six round-trip rides from Oxford to London. I don't believe I'll make it to London six times, though I am hoping for a minimun of three.

I crashed after lecture and took a really refreshing nap. The weather wasn't pretty here today (it hasn't been very pleasant since a day or two after we arrived) and a productive morning called for a quiet evening. I considered seeing an indie film at a theatre in Jericho, but got left behind by the group that went! I instead settled for watching "Elizabeth: The Golden Age" in the student lounge with a group of students, much cheaper than a £7 movie.

I am hoping to get some good, hard sleep tonight, as I aim for a walk along the River Thames in the a.m. I haven't been near the river since our first day, and 10 a.m. class allows plenty of time for the stroll. Perhaps I shall even grab another cappuccino from On the Hoof!

To all in Fargo and/or Minot with inane weather conditions, I wish you all the best. I know I'd be sandbagging if I were in the area!

love.
jc

Pick a number, or just…go to bed dirty.

2009-03-24T23:03:00.011Z

wagamama
Originally uploaded by approximately_yes

The showers in my hall are interesting. They've got a dial on them with the numbers zero through nine, zero being the coldest and nine being scalding hot. It's convenient, like one of those sleep number mattresses. "What's your shower number?" I'm close to an eight.

Well, I've been cranking the darn shower to nine all night and the water's still "bloody cold." I want to wash all of the city gritty off of me, but I'm extremely tired. It's not as bad as spending a day in New York City, where you feel like you are coated in ketchup, cooties, illegal drugs, feces, and traces of 8.36 million people. No, I can venture about Oxford and not feel like I've been dunked in a fryer and sprayed with exhaust fumes (I can thank Smart Cars for that), but close.

Hygiene aside, allow me to relay the best thing of the best things to happen today: booking a trip to Ireland. Two friends and I got all of the details and reservations worked out, and we will be spending Easter in the Emerald Isle! Now I sit back and wait for 09 April to arrive. Interestingly enough we are taking four (FOUR) modes of transportation to get there and back:

• Leave morning of 09 Apr from Oxford by train to Holyhead, Wales
• Ferry across channel to Dublin
• Depart Dublin for 3-day tour of Northern Ireland via coach
• Dublin to Derry
• Derry to Belfast
• Belfast to Dublin
• Fly out of Dublin to London on 13 Apr
• London to Oxford via bus

Our Ferry route is the green line.

We are "roughing it" in hostels and taking just carry on luggage, so it's going to be an adventure, no doubt. I believe it will be exciting, and scary, and as one site says "fan-fecking-tastic." Ireland will be gorgeous.

Other than that, the days events were relatively dry. I never made it to Jericho (want to set aside a whole afternoon for that) but managed to have dinner at said noodle restaurant, a trendy place called Wagamama. They are hot in the U.K., as I checked out all the locations on their website and found they dominate this area. Not certain if there are any in the U.S.? In any case it was delicious and frrrrrriendly. As in, everything was so streamlined and sleek, every bit of the restaurant's identity was well-designed, from menu to interior, even the high chairs were mod. The vegetarian options were well mapped out, and I accompanied my meal with a fruit juice drink that the menu boasted would "clean out my system."

Speaking of food (which seems is one of the main topics in every single post. What can I say, I'm a connoisseur) I must admit, I was pretty skeptical of how things would go over here with the whole veggie thing. Okay, yes I know that there are vegetarians EVERYWHERE, and that they are not some endangered species that must scrounge the depths of a Pita Pit dumpster to find something to eat. But I wasn't certain what would be readily available to me, as I didn't want to be eating noodles and sauce or worse (better), chocolate and hamburger buns for every meal. The dining hall offers a veggie option at each meal, which is a godsend. It's unfortunate however that the food is awful. Bland, colorless, and questionable. I believe someone around here has an Oxford degree in Leftover Reprocessing, terrible as it sounds. I counted pieces from about five different meals in a hotdish I had for lunch.

One of the things I miss the most right now is ice. As in, the little cubes served in a beverage. Room temperature water is fine and all, but I can't believe I took all of that frozen h2o for granted when I was home. I heard that Minot got hit pretty well with a blizzard or somesuch, well — send some of that snow my way. I will toss it in my drink.

Looking for some dessert after din at Wagamama, I stumbled upon an uber (does anyone use this word anymore? Please respond) cool ice cream shop. It's not legendary by any means, but it's three locations are well-known in Oxford: George & Danver's (where I went first) with exceptional 'Hokey Pokey' ice cream; George & Davis', conveniently located right next door to the University of Oxford's admissions building, that has excellent cookies; and another in Jericho that I have not yet visited (I figured two in one night was quite enough).

Oh! But tomorrow will be exciting. I don't have lecture until 11:30, so I've got a morning adventure planned. I love getting up here in the a.m. and venturing out. Tomorrow I am going to grab a baguette and coffee, then dash into the city centre to visit the Gloucester Green market, an open-air market that runs every Wednesday with vendors selling fresh fruits, vegetables, odds and ends. I am also looking forward to Thursday at the Green, where there is a second-hand market. Right up my alley!

I found a really neat street this evening as well. It has a "Vintage American Clothing" store on it. I am wondering what the English consider "Vintage American Clothing." I peeked in the window, and it appears to be nothing like the pandemonium that was Unicorn. I am hoping to make it to this place, called 'Uncle Sam's', sometime tomorrow. Then again, I'll be here for about four and half more weeks, so I don't know why I insist on cramming all of this stuff in. I'm afraid I'll miss something, I suppose.

The plan is to head into London on Sunday, it appears that most of the group has found this an opportune day to do so as there is no lecture. I can hop the bus into the city and spend the entire day museum-ing (now a verb!), eating, exploring and taking the Tube about. On Saturday we are making a day trip to Stonehenge, Avebury and Salisbury. Whoo hoo! I love prehistoric rock monuments and charming English villages!! (I wouldn't know this because I've never experienced either, but I'm certain all will bring a smashing time.)

It's a quiet evening, and I'm going to bed smelly. Until tomorrow —

xx
jenny

PS: Seriously, North Dakota. Think about that ice. My address is:

j to the c (me)
Wycliffe Hall
52/54 Banbury Road
Oxford OX2 6PW

Today's Theme: Mingling

2009-03-24T01:18:00.014Z

It's been a bit of a long day, and I'm a tad knackered, so I'll keep this as quick as I can.

Today was really fantastic. I made an effort to get up extra early (8 a.m.) to allow extra time for exploration before 10 a.m. lecture. The best part about the time change is, getting up at 8 a.m. is like getting up at 3 a.m. back home, which I would be up anyway, so I don't really feel it.

I grabbed breakfast, then used my free half hour to roam the nearby neighborhoods across the road. My first stop was North Parade Avenue, where I'd heard through the grapevine of a nice place I could grab a cappuccino and soak in the passersby.

North Parade Avenue

I'd heard right, as I soon found a quaint shop with open doors and a sign calling it 'On the Hoof.' For £1 I got my morning fix of caffeine, a cappuccino to go. I wanted to sit at the window and drink, but was pressed for time.

As a true tourist, I enjoy utilizing my camera often — though I try not to be too pronounced. Until lecture I circled the area taking snaps of little things that I wouldn't see every day, but that the English take for granted: recycling bins on curbs, retro bicycles lining iron fences, and beautiful brick homes.

My weather Widget told me it was going to rain today, and it has seldom to never failed me. I had a plan! Between one lecture and another I walked the mile or so to the center of the city to purchase an umbrella. I knew if I put it off, I'd soon need one it would already be raining. I literally booked it into town (as in speeeeed walking), snatched the first umbrella (and cheapest, as I know I will discard of it in a few weeks) I could find, a silly shield with a plastic knob handle that looks like a gear shifter in a manual car. Ridiculous, but for £7, I bought it (others were £13…not sure why the gear shift cost less and not more). I made it back right in time. And wouldn't you know it, after lunch I walked outside to — you guessed it — pouring rain. Yes! I gave my new umbrella a go while walking into the city once again, this time to visit a travel agency.

Right now several friends and I are trying to get together a trip to Ireland over Easter break. We've been looking into it for a while now, and sorted through the pro's and con's of many aspects. A) There's no airport in Oxford, so we'd have to book a flight out of London, or take a train to the coast and then ferry across the sea 2) We have just five days iii) We have to find lodging and transportation while there 4) It's Easter, so Dublin is going to be in-flipping-sane and V) We're students on a budget. Add these all up and…well…options are limited. But! We think we have a plan.

I managed to find a Ben & Jerry's today, and a friend grabbed a treat there while I watched her consume. Odd that I wasn't feeling ice cream, but I can't blame myself as it was very cold, windy, and wet. The best part about Ben & Jerry's was the guy (or mate, or lad, as they say here) behind the counter. He had a name I couldn't pronounce, and an accent that was not British, but somewhere else, perhaps Russia. He wore glasses like Lennon! I almost pointed this out to him, but thought it would be stating the obvious. Anyhow, when I asked him a question about what his favorite kind of ice cream was, and I didn't know what he was talking about, he said, "You from Ameh-ica, right?" I played dense and exclaimed, "What! How did you know?" I know it is very obvious, especially our darn midwestern accent, a dead giveaway. He told us of a few museums to visit, both of which happen to be closed/under construction. Thank you anyhow Lubveztiz. Thank you Ben, and thank you Jerry!

Ben & Jerry's held no treats for me, as I was looking for a more run-down, cozy hole-in-the-city with homemade goods and a nice cup of something. More meandering brought me to an offshoot street with an extremely appealing shop called Unicorn.

Unicorn COULD HAVE been the best thing to happen to me since I arrived. Unfortunately, there is 30 years of vintage clothing in piles from floor to ceiling with absolutely no arrangement or orderliness whatsoever. When I walked in, I wasn't even sure if it was a store. There was an old woman likely in her 70's or 80's, standing in the only space you could move in the entire store, a path leading from the door to about 6 feet into the shop, and two feet wide. Just standing amidst years of clothing. I wanted so badly to take a photo of her with her merchandise, but when I asked she said I could only photograph the outside of her shop because vandals had found out how much she has inside and for some reason or another, stuffed a burning newspaper in her mail slot. As though it is any secret how much stuff she has inside…

I'd hold things up and ask her how much she wanted for them and she'd toss out a price from the catalogue in her head. "The purse is £19. It's from the 1930's, leather with a suede inside." Astonishing. I dug for about 10-15 minutes and finally just gave in. It was very sad to walk out the door empty handed, but if she hasn't gotten around to arranging the place after thirty years…well…goodbye!

Two doors up was the café I was looking for (I visit a looooooooot of these. Excuse the monotony of my European lifestyle) called Heroes. I took in an afternoon treat — as I do every afternoon. Carrot cake and mint tea.

It was really interesting, they charged an extra 30p or so to eat in. Rubbish.

I love walking the streets in the afternoon. It is a safe place in the daylight, and I am comfortable roaming on my own, weaving in and out of passageways, shops, sidewalks and delis. The city is very accessible and I feel that I have got a good five weeks worth of exploring, photographing, and documenting to do, five weeks that I plan to utilize well! I want to know this place very well when I leave.

This evening I (finally) went "out." I don't care much for beer, which is a great deal here in the pubs, but was definitely up for a glass of wine. Several friends and I visited The Eagle and Child (I mentioned this pub in an earlier entry — Tolkien's and C.S. Lewis's hangout) We split a couple bottles of wine and apps. An inexpensive way to have a good evening.

Just starting at Eagle and Child

Interesting "Bread Sharer." Oil and vinegar do not mix, but bread and wine do.

According to the bartender "Tony," directly behind me is where Tolkien and Lewis hung out.

Yes.

On the way out we wanted a photo, and asked a group walking along the sidewalk to take our picture, who ironically turned out to be Canadians. This is not exciting when you are in Minnesota. This is very exciting when you are in England, because you have found someone that 98% talks like you.

Among other friendly folk we ran into this evening were several gentlemen from Ireland. Everyone knows we are from the States — for them, it is just a matter of guessing which state we're from. Most seem to know of Minnesota. Now North Dakota on the other hand — well, it's easier to just say you're from Minnesota. An Irishman guessed we were from New York, chatted for a while and offered his daughters as tour guides when we arrive in Belfast ("They'll pick you up in the limo" Hah). When we moved along to another pub, we joined a table with three English grad students that picked apart our whereabouts in Oxford, then questioned where exactly the Hoover Dam is. It was nice to talk to locals that were near our age about school, diction, dialect, politics, and life in general. Also, they told us they love our president, and weren't affected by the European Union.

It was a great day, save the rain. Which come to think of it — really wasn't that terrible.

Tomorrow I plan on visiting an area of town called Jericho, a funky place with cool shops, eating, etc. (also, apparently, where Radiohead began their beginnings). Dinner is in order at a noodle restaurant. Then again, "I don't make plans" so…we'll see.

Ah! It's 11 p.m. Central time so…I'll let you do the math.

Goodnight from Oxford,
Jenny

PS: Sorry this was not quick whatsoever.

Of Christ & Cookies (But Not of Pastries Consumed By Jesus)

2009-03-22T22:09:00.011Z

Today started with more Cadbury chocolate spread, followed by a visit to Christ Church. My group and I were running a bit late for the 10 a.m. service, and booked it through the city only to walk in about two after. I was afraid that the place would be packed, which it was pretty well full, but an usher escorted us to front pews! Our seats were right next to the boys' choir, an extremely talented bunch of lads of many ages. The group looked to range from about age 7-maybe late 20's, and they played a giant role in the ceremony. It was beautiful! The arrangement of the church was interesting. Rather than facing the front of the church, all of the pews were lined along the sides, parallel to the main aisle. Graves of esteemed folk were marked in many places on the floor, apparently because being buried in the ground on holy ground is a sure way to heaven. Afterward we stuck around for a few minutes to peruse, though we couldn't stay long as another service followed.

(I know these aren't intersting, but take my word for it: the interior was beautiful!) I could see all of the images from my Western Art book I read early my sophomore year flash before me throughout the entire ceremony, as I tried to connect the architecture terms with what I was seeing:

(P.S.: I didn't actually take this photograph but…I could have!! Also, my seat was in the bottom right corner of the photo! The far end acted as the back of the church during today's ceremony, though it doesn't seem like it should be. Hmm..)

Afterward we roamed about the courtyard of the college. It's usually closed off, but since we had made it in for church by means of a friendly man in a bowler hat allowing us to enter the gates, we weren't going to let this time go to waste.

In the courtyard of Christ Church College. I am facing the cathedral, and the surrounding buildings are the college.

This old woman was just too cute. And very English.

This strangely reminds me of the statue of Samothrace. Needless to say, I felt entirely cliché posing for this photo.

And again, in Christ Church's courtyard.

The city was already bustling around 11, and naturally, I was craving a pastry. I always am. The streets are lined with a ton of cafés; it is all about trial and error, finding the good ones. Today was a miss. I spotted the most glorious chocolate chip cookie practically yelling at me from the window of a shop. When I stopped in and bought one for £1.60, I was sorely disappointed. DRY, and not tasty whatsoever. My search for the perfect café continues!

The misleading cookie. Don't let those chips fool you, folks!

Catching up on my World "News." The British would use 'romp.'

I ran across some of the streets I'd seen in last evening's Ghost Tour. They look so much more — lively — during the day time.

The walls on either side are of 14th century structures. I've been told that many a man fought and died on this street!

Church of St. Mary the Virgin. I've been meaning to get inside the building, you can actually stand above the clock and get a pretty good view of the city for 50p I believe. The flowered tree outside is very common in this area, and they are soooo beautiful. You can see at the corner of the photo, two girls sitting in the branches. I am determined to sit up there one of these days, and relive my old past of climbing trees!

Finally, I got a little more acquainted today with the currency, as I pulled out the vast coinage that has collected in my wallet. This stuff weighs you down! The most interesting part is the coin values. There are £1 and £2 coins, then 50p, 20p, 10p, 5p, 2p and 1p pieces. I must say...is the 2p really necessary?! C'mon! Your coins are breaking my back, England!

The last stop of the evening was a late visit to the nearby grocer. The shop is no bigger than a glorified walk-in closet, yet he has every kind of chocolate imaginable. Tonight I bought some ORANGE CHOCOLATE, my absolute favorite (which I can never seem to find ANYWHERE). I bought an orange chocolate bar, as well as some orange Belgian chocolate cookies. Jolly. Good.

I am still looking for a day this week to visit London. There is a great deal on bus fares and the busses run about every 10 minutes, 24/7 from Oxford to London. It's only a matter of finding a day and I will be on my way to English mecca...

Love from the U.K.!

Jenny

PS: Mom, if you're reading this HAPPY MUM'S DAY. It's Mother's Day in England today! I heard about your Skype situation. Let me know when that gets fixed!

2009-03-22T15:54:00.000Z

Back to lecture —
more this eve!

xo
jc

I'll Have a Little More England On That Kebob!

2009-03-21T23:44:00.003Z

I've just wrapped up my first full day in England — another day of adventures, food, and glorious sites!

After a hefty and much-needed 11 hours of sleep, I woke up and had my first English breakfast. Eggs, cereal, and toast were on the menu, and I paired it with a hot cup of green tea. The best part: the dining hall offered jam, peanut butter and — get this — Cadbury milk chocolate spread for toast. Needless to say I was all over that. My kind of breakfast!!

The first lectures were extremely enlightening. Not like your boring ol' classes where you listen to two hours of dull rambling, but very engaging. Afterward I took a solitary stroll around the block. There are really beautiful trees with flowers on them, and the smell is fantastic. It was nice to get out in the sun — temps were near 60 degrees here today!

An interesting house I spotted on my afternoon stroll!

The front (top) and back of my residence, Wycliffe Hall. GREEN GRASS! Nice.

I did a ton of exploring! I feel like I could wander this city for years and it would never get old. It is such a privilege to be on the campus, and mingle amidst the buildings. The streets were packed as dancers, music, and tourists filled sidewalk to sidewalk. I tracked down an ATM and now have means of purchasing…which I did…

Oh, the shopping! There is everything here. I feel so naive for insisting on buying many things before I left. No need. Trendy shops line the roads, with trendy clothes for — you guessed it — all of England's trendy people. The style here is seriously fantastic. I love seeing all the chic men, women, and teenagers peruse the streets in their tights, flats, boots, and leather bags. They make me feel like a slouch, but I am trying to take away from the fads and perhaps eventually blend into the crowd. I got a neat pair of shoes and some fun sunglasses today at a neat store called Top Shop, both a bargain. (Side note: When I heard Britney Spears and U2 playing over the stereo in one of the stores, I couldn't help but do a little dance and feel at home…though technically U2 doesn't belong to us, but BRITNEY…she's ours!)

After a bit of shopping with a friend, we hunted down a little café called Harvey's, where I consumed one of the best raspberry muffins and mochas of my life. I carried my mocha into a store a bit later and could have sworn I heard a British woman say to me, "So you don't like the tea?" I am thinking that it is a bit different here, that it's not the norm to drink coffee during any given time of the day, and getting coffee drinks at certain times of the day is frowned upon. I'll catch on eventually.

This evening I went on a Ghost Tour through campus. The tour guide enlightened us of various haunted buildings, etc. Not too much about ghosts, but more of a history of Oxford and a brief touch on some premises claimed to be "haunted." The tour was highlighted by stories of the crazy William Archibald Spooner (originator of spoonerisms), Bill Clinton's residence on Grove "Grope" Street during his stay in Oxford as a Rhode Scholar, and a building where a student took his life by jumping from a window after completing his final exam and knowing that he'd failed it. Interesting nonetheless, and walking through Oxford in the evening with nothing but the street lights casting shadows on 14th century buildings is very eerie, as though I visiting the past.

During the Ghost Tour!

I passed through a pub, Oxford's very first and award-winning Turf Tavern. The pub is curiously hidden and located by means of small, covert passageways that our Ghost Tour guide luckily pointed out to us (thanks, Stuart)! I didn't have a drink as I don't much care for beer, and as it is Saturday night the place was packed. Poking my head in was experience enough for the evening, and I mostly enjoy seeing the townspeople having a good time. That makes me happy!

Meandering through the streets brought my friend Kayla and I to another establishment, a small deli called la Croissanterie. We grabbed a stool near a group of teens playing a card game they called "Shithead." I figured they would be more friendly, but surprisingly we said a few words, told them where we were from, and they wanted nothing to do with us. So much for mingling with the locals! Yikes.

Killing time with my neighbor, Courtney. We are #24 and #29, respectively.

A break for a while, and I was off for a late night snack at a food cart called Hussein's. I've been told numerous times to try the fish and chips, but as I don't eat the first half of it, I instead ordered the most deceiving vegetarian kebob I have ever witnessed. I thought I'd be getting a stick of skewed veggies and tofu, so when the friendly worker handed me this monstrosity:

I was more than a little concerned. Delicious, but not exactly a healthy late night treat! The worker would yell to me from the cart, "Hummus?! Lettuce?! Sauce?!" and kept piling it higher and spraying it with chili sauce. I sat on the stairs of a monument and ate my "kebob", until a friend and I were approached by a mad drunk man carrying a liter of something or other and yelling/flipping off every bus and car in sight. He was harmless I believe, and we sat through about five minutes of his insistence that he was better than everyone else, and that no one should put up with anything. Another soon came along, and that was our cue that we were sitting on homeless grounds. A quick "Well, lovely chat, we've got to run!" and we walked away at a brisk pace!

A bit more adventuring, and we decided we weren't ready for the clubs. I am okay with that! It's been a long, wonderful day!

Tomorrow morning I am going to a Sunday service at Christ Church! I mentioned it in yesterday's post, but it is a beautiful structure. During the week they charge a fee for a tour, mostly because Harry Potter was filmed in it, etc. but on Sunday there is no charge. Yay!

I am going to try and keep up daily, but I really want to spend every moment I can out and about! There is too much to do here to waste the moments...

I am so, so thankful for this experience. Until tomorrow — !

Jenny

2009-03-21T22:50:00.003Z

I'm out here a thousand miles from my home,
Walkin' a road other men have gone down.
I'm seein' your world of people and things,
Your paupers and peasants and princes and kings.

—Bob Dylan 'Song to Woody.' I ran across this in a bookshop today and saw it fit.

What I Love About Oxford, Part I

2009-03-21T13:52:00.006Z

The simpleness of it all.

My cute little room...

...with a cute little view!

Gorgeous architecture!

And of course, the English have teatime, all the time.

I am living in a dream. This is unreal.
I love it here.

TOUCHDOWN!

2009-03-20T16:44:00.005Z

I made it here, things are wonderful, and rest assured that I will be in touch ASAP. England is LOVELY.

The computer situation is a little unpredictable! More when I can.

PS. Hi Mom. Still working on calling you. Talk soon. Love.

UPDATE.

I don't even know where to begin. The flight was incredibly long and terribly boring -- nearly eight hours and I didn't get a spot of sleep. Landed at Heathrow in London at 7:30 this morning (that's 2:30 AM for all of your Central-Timers!) and I officially lost five hours. We were picked up by a motorcoach and drove the approx. 45 minutes to Oxford!

I am staying on campus at a building called Wycliffe Hall. It's cleared out, as students are on Holiday right now, and I have my own little room with a bed, desk, dresser, and sink. The sun shines through my window in the afternoon making for a perfect nap...which I took two today to make up for lost sleep.

There was also plenty of exploring today, though I am too tired to venture out this evening and instead took a shower to wash the plane germs off of me, then plan to retire. A group went to hit up a local pub called the Eagle and Child where the likenesses of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis brewed ideas. I think I may head over tomorrow, when I am better rested and not crabby. Long flights and little sleep will do that.

But Oxford! Wow. Wow wow wow. This place is unbelievable. So many colleges, and beautiful architecture and history. I took a walking tour tonight with my Oxford professor, Dr. Allan Chapman, a brilliant wealth of knowledge. He showed us many of the colleges, and quite a few buildings around Oxford, including Christ Church where scenes from Harry Potter were filmed, and Lewis Carroll / Charles Lutwidge Dodgson was inspired to write of Alice in Wonderland. The River Thames runs (and originates) very nearby...I plan on going for a walk along it very soon!

I am tempted to take many photographs, but honestly believe that they wouldn't do justice for much of the scenery.

Alas, I spent my first money here today...but just .50p for a Aero candy bar at a small grocer near my hall. I told him I'd just arrived from the U.S. and he seemed to know all about the program I came with. Very friendly. I actually paid with a £5 note that my aunt Amy gave me for my trip! I haven't made my way to a bank / ATM yet so I'm just rolling with the American mulah I've brought, credit cards and £4.50. Awesome. At least it has kept me from spending thus far. Also --- thank you Amy!

Life is going to take a bit of adjusting, but I think I can do it. That is all I have for this evening. I need sleep...for I have my first lecture tomorrow!

Love.
jc

2009-03-19T17:19:00.003Z

You can coach yourself for months before you leave, but until you wake up the morning of, you don't realize what is truly about to happen. This is it! Today!

I have never had this feeling my in my stomach before.

Here I go...

The Last Stretch

2009-03-18T14:30:00.005Z

WOW.

It's my last day in the States today, the final day that I will actually spend all 24 hours on U.S. soil and not in limbo over the ocean or on a new continent.

I have been waiting for this since…September, possibly forever. Yesterday at home my mom commented on how curly my hair's gotten, making mention that it's nice and curly for the trip. I told her jokingly that it'd been preparing itself since 1988 — though on second thought, I really do feel that every part of me has been preparing for that long. Maybe I wasn't five years old sitting at my lemonade stand thinking, "Yeah, Europe. I want to go there," or having visions while playing in my tree house: "This view is good, but I wonder what Rome looks like from the top of the Duomo…" I haven't known I wanted to go for that long, but I do feel I've put in years to ready myself for this.

Today is goodbyes and cleaning, packing, preparing, and hopefully sleep and relaxation. I really, really don't want to feel unprepared...

For all faithful readers that are strapped into their seats, set to follow my journey via this blog — thank you, and know that I would stick you in my suitcase if I could, but I can unfortunately only bring 45 pounds.

Love to all.

Three days, Folks!

2009-03-16T07:13:00.000Z

I'm almost packed and ready to roll!!

2009-03-15T23:25:00.000Z

Four days, and I will be a very lucky lady in a very big world
ready to explore.

London, at Night.

2009-03-13T07:09:00.000Z

The River Thames + Tower Bridge.

The city of London, at night: the financial district, NatWest Tower, + the River Thames.

(© Jason Hawkes)

Duck Tour?!

2009-03-11T08:38:00.001Z

This...I must try.

Digression

2009-03-10T05:37:00.001Z

I can hardly contain my excitement anymore. In the heat of my attempt at containment, I've been packing up my apartment little by little. I boxed up the bathroom and my desk drawers! It feels fantastic.

I searched the town side to side today for a rugged messenger bag for my travels. My first stop was the GIANT Scheel's in Fargo (which may as well be it's own country). You could take the entirety of the MSUM campus and fit it inside this building. It is outfitted with a ferris wheel (which I like to ride on occasion) operated by a creepy/friendly man (still in question), and a presidential wax tour! Seriously. It's the craziest building ever. The only way that someone could conjure up such a monstrosity is through serious amounts of caffiene pills and a large midlife epiphany. I can see it: "We need a sporting goods center! We can sell BATS! And gloves! And bikes! Kayaks, too! WAIT. Wait. We'll get hungry so we'll need a restaurant in there, too. OH. Oh oh oh!! I've got it, guys! A FERRIS WHEEL. Right in the middle RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE. Hmm. Something's missing...something....oh....ohh...WAX PRESIDENTS. OH…MY…BRILLIANCE."

The store is truly epic. You could easily get lost in it for several days if you really wanted to and, if need be, one could sustain themselves in the camping section, use the restrooms, and eat from the restaurant. Now that I think about it…it doesn't sound half bad.

I purchased something at Scheel's, and on my way out was thanked by a presumable upper-management figure on a Segway. A SEGWAY! Read: A pedestal on wheels. I am 28% sure his legs were not broken. Alas, I digress. Scheel's is a friendly place, as was the small local sporting goods store across the street that a Scheel's employee directed me to after they didn't have what I was looking for! A whole world of sports and not a single messenger bag for a little lady.

So I thought I'd swing by Gander Mtn. I always see it from the interstate when I'm driving home from work, and it looks like a pretty rugged place. Maybe they have a bag for me, I thought! Then I pulled into the parking lot and saw nothing but supercrew heavy duty diesel trucks, and turned my car around. No way.

So the search conitnues...and so does the countdown, 10 days y'all. Wow.

2009-03-09T06:23:00.000Z

I am going to try my hardest to work out my sleep schedule before I leave, to make a gradual adjustment to the 5-hour time difference.

At this point — I think it may be a little too late.

Packers.

2009-03-08T09:07:00.001Z

These…are so tempting.

Then I read through the reviews (99.9% rated five-stars) and realized that 100% of the people that use them are between the ages of 35-70.

But still. Very tempting, and another thing I don't need/can't afford. Yet I think they may have the potential to kick a bad packing habit. Possibly.

My OCD is screaming "YES, YES!" but my credit card is shaking its head.

Oh, snap! I did it!

2009-03-08T07:17:00.000Z

I bought a camera today! Hooray.

I also put my conditioner into a travel-sized bottle — a baby step toward packing!

Almostttt therrrrrre!

2009-03-07T08:58:00.000Z

I can't even believe
what's about to happen to me.

Cam someone please just…do this for me?

2009-03-05T03:37:00.001Z

I'm sad to say I'll be leaving my EOS Rebel at home during the trip. It is, unfortunately, too chunky for the journey and not very travel-friendly (not to mention I lost the lens cap…oopie).

What's the exciting news? Is there exciting news?! Of course. I can buy a new camera! Spending money is FUN, especially when you're shelling out cash for a new camera.

So I've been scavenging the interweb all day for a digital point and shoot, with little to moderate success. Yikes! There are too many to choose from — too many letters and number combinations. The reviews have been somewhat helpful, but I still can't keep the Cameraname OMG 92349 IS straight from the Othercamera LOL 4780 IS. Like, what?

Ashton's been trying to sell me a Nikon Koolpix for months now, but it really isn't going to happen. I've got my eyes set on a Canon Powershot. Inconvenience: there's about 28 models, all with a slight variation in features. I don't care about the color. Whatevs. I just want quality, something sleek and pretty. Oh, and it's got to outlive my old POJ (that's Piece Of Junk) Sony Cybershot (the first digital camera I bought back in '05, that didn't make it past '06…)

I go to Rick Steves when I need travel advice. I go to my mom when I need to smile. I go to my sister when I need a ride. I go to my best friend when I need to be weird. But trying to buy a camera? I just don't know where to go. I need a freaking elf, or gnome, or some divine photographic guru to choose a camera for me. I don't. Want. To do it!

Maybe I should just go with this:

It looks sturdy and kid friendly. And if I drop it say, down the stairs of the Duomo, I'm sure the chunky plastic would save it's high-tech insides.

So-long!
jc

To the Next Two Months:

2009-03-04T01:01:00.000Z

Dear Next Two Months of My Life,

I hope you’re ready for this, the great change that is to be established in the midst of your time. You are a set number of days with an infinite amount of memories, a sculptor of the woman who lives within your minutes, destined to prolong your means. There are places that are beyond her greatest dreams, buildings that are taller than clouds and higher than birds, soils more ancient than the juncture of history that surrounds them. Take her there. Show her that the world is a marvelous, grand, strange and beautiful place.

Take this woman to her bearings, in countries foreign with awe. Watch as she witnesses the splendor of culture and keep her eyes wide and her mind awake. Make certain she takes photographs and writes words that convey her wonderment and gratitude, and forgo the negativity that manifests beneath a person’s satisfaction.

Be kind, and be inspiring, and change her life…
…but first, get in here:

Love.

Happy Travel "Gear"

2009-03-03T03:06:00.001Z

It's antsy time. Not that it hasn't been for the past six months, but now I am getting really anxious.

I [finally] purchased a little travel treat for my laptop today. I had to go to Best Buy to find it, and dodge about 42 over-eager employees. I'd say the shiny neoprene and fuzzy white lining made it well work the mission. (Unfortunately there are a shitton of way cool colors available on the incase site, but I am too cheap to pay for shipping at this point.)

I've been hearing all sorts of clamor about bringing my Mac along, but I think I've decided it would be beneficial to dump my photos on, blogging every step of the way to K.I.T. (that's keep in touch, folks), etc. As far as phone service goes, I am turning to trusty Skype for most —or all— of my long distance calling. If you'd like to hear my voice in the upcoming months I suggest the download (don't all run to skype.com at once now)! Not to mention, how on earth would I live without Schroeder (my computer) for two months? I'd rather not pay my sister to babysit.

My birthday raked in all sorts of travel treats, but a favorite was this awesome travel journal. AHH! I'd been drooling over them at Barnes & Noble for the past…eternity. The cover is sturdy plastic-coated (convenient for all of my coffee spills and drop-kickings) and the pages are a psychadelic collage of travel euphoria. Very cool, also very hard to hold off journaling. I actually bought my trip purse today, and placed the journal inside it, as if I could just grab the bag and go to Europe. I am that ready.

And this! I circled the Moleskines at B&N like a vulture. They are so sleek and classic, not to mention they smell really good. A friend gifted one to me for my trip! Whoa. Flipping through the pages makes me feel inspired. This is also a difficult one to hold off writing in until my ventures. Now all I need is a fancy pen…

That's all. I'm going to attempt to fit in my suitcase now. Cheers!

jc

2009-03-02T08:43:00.000Z

Oh, the beautiful places I will go…

2009-02-23T05:53:00.000Z

Tonight at work, in the midst of a dinner's rush and the overwhelming mess that devoured me...

I thought of one. Happy. Thought.

Italy. This is all for Italy.

And everything was alright.

A Broad, Studying.

2009-02-22T10:36:00.000Z

DAD (TO FRIEND): Well, Jenny's studying in England this semester.

DAD'S FRIEND: Oh! What, there're no books or schools here? Too good for us?

ME: Hah. Haha. Hahaha!

DAD: She wants to immerse herself in the culture.

ME: (Under my breath) Or find myself a husband…!

DAD: #$%#%@#$!

2009-02-22T06:37:00.001Z

I want to learn French. Very much.

Night

2009-02-20T07:25:00.000Z

In preparation for my visit to Buchenwald in April, I am currently reading Elie Wiesel's Night. I consumed a good 50 pages last evening before bed; nothing too terribly graphic, but disturbing scenes nonetheless.

I knew this wasn't a good idea, and I was right. I woke up this morning in somewhat of a panic. I had awful dreams that I was being hunted, and had gone into hiding under a pile of blankets and cushions. It was very real, and I felt distress as my coating was stripped away and I was found.

No such account of the Holocaust has ever hit home as hard as Wiesel's, as he struggled through days upon weeks of bread and soup, beatings and watching inmates, friends, and family move on.

Wiesel was at Buchenwald for some time during the War. It was a tragedy, however I feel privileged to have the opportunity to see where he and others contended for their lives.

I'm hoping that it is possible, to prepare myself for this experience.

Welcome, have a seat!

2009-02-16T21:39:00.000Z

Oh, hey!

Welcome to JC's EuroBlog v. 2.0, the multinational division of electronic surgical words and yet another production by approximatelyes!

'Exclamation Points' is what I will be bliggity bloggofesting on during my skip o' cross the pond (and by pond I mean the OCEAN).

Anyhow!

The countdown's a-rollin' and I am in near disbelief. One month and I will be in sunny England, rolling about in the soft sands and soaking myself in British husbandry. If everything goes as planned, Harry will roll up at a quarter to 7 and we'll hit the town. A few problems:

a. For some reason, "sunny England" doesn't roll off the tongue as naturally as "sunny Florida." Perhaps my conceptions of Britain's forecast are a tad off.

2. Soft sands? Who am I kidding. I don't even roll around on the shores of Sakakawea. And that's some pretty soft, legit sand.

III. And by husbandry, I mean finding myself a husband. NOT land management. That is for Ireland.

quatro: Harry doesn't know I'm coming yet...but he will. It's actually a surprise. But don't worry, the Queen knows. We've spoken.

Miscalculations aside, I am sure everything will be lovely. I am finishing up my coursework today to turn the whole kit'n'caboodle (remember those? Caboodles? I still use one) in tomorrow. Right now I am working on a "pre-trip museum plan," meaning I have to "pre-scope" out 8 museums in 8 cities that have some awesome appeal. Then I need to "pre-think" of artwork I'd like to visit, e.g. the Mona Lisa. Because goodness forbid an American tourist not see Mona (who also knows I'm coming)!

Tomorrow begins my Orientation session, six days of the Enlightenment, English novelists, and questionable ham sandwiches and potato chips provided by Sodexho. The best part about it is, 74% of the sessions are run by Rick Steves via DVD. Which means Rick Steves is pretty much here in Moorhead, giving me valid reason to get up at 9 a.m.*

(*I am not using the above asterisk for looks. Please refer to the end of the post. *~ThAnKs~*)

On a more positive note (as if anything gets better than Rick Steves DVD's) I finished reading the driest book of my LIFE (English Society in the Eighteenth Century) and now have more time to knit/noodle dance/watch Family Matters/play 52 pick-up. Praise be, I can have my life back again!!

Finally, (I just realized I don't have anything to write here) 31 days until blastoff!

Stop by again when you're in the neighborhood, if this pre-pre-trip yabber hasn't exhausted you. The best is yet to come!

Sweet nectar, and love to all.

xo
JC
owner, CEO, creater, initiator and space cadet of 'exclamation points' (approximatelyeurope.blogspot.com)

*This is the earliest I have waken in close to four months.