We didn't get lost this time. A part of me wishes that we did. - by Rachel Neer

It has been nearly a month since that return trip to London, and to say that nothing has happened since would be a total lie. I’m not usually one to lie, which means that I should probably stop skirting around it and tell you what has happened in this short month.

Yesterday, students celebrated the one-month anniversary of their arrival at Harlaxton College. It wasn’t so much a celebration as it was conversation around the dinner tables in the refectory about how quickly the time has flown by and how unbelievable it was that that day, 4 February, marked one month abroad.

I spent the weekend after London on campus, in the midst of a quiet atmosphere. Several people had chosen to travel that week, be it with the school sponsored trip to Cambridge (I heard it was miserably wet…but what else is new in England?) or otherwise. I, not being one of the travelers, spent the weekend either in the library or my room, catching up on all of the reading that I had already neglected. That night was nice, as my friends and I went into Grantham for dinner and drinks. It was good to be “close to home” that weekend…it gave us time to explore places that we had still not seen and to just sit and chat about the coming weeks.

This is supposed to be a travel blog, I know. I also know that I have yet to write about travel. I feel as though it would be a mistake if I were to skip to the next weekend and leave out what happened in between times.

That Wednesday was the Meet-a-Family dinner and reception. Several students who are here were “adopted” into British families for the semester. If you had walked into the Great Hall on this particular Wednesday night, you would have been greeted by Dr Kingsley or Bronwyn, both with a smile on their face, a firm handshake, and instructions to either hang your coat on the rack or find your nametag…in my case, it was both. You would have then made your way into the Great Hall, where you may or may not have been able to cut the tension in the air. Students were anxious, but more excited than anything, about meeting their families. You would have caught a whiff of fresh flowers mixed with baked chicken and veg, the meal of the night. Long after dessert was served, you could have remained in the Long Gallery for at least an hour, listening to laughter fill the room. The conversation that you would have heard from Ralph and Judith with Crystal and I would have been one about day trips and classes; what we enjoyed and if we would help them with American trivia questions at a pub one night. Smart dress was required…it was truly a formal affair. It is one of my favorite things about Harlaxton thus far.

The weekend that followed was a school trip to Edinburgh in Scotland. (I later discovered that this was pronounced as Edinborough (like Jonesboro or Gainesboro) for all you American folk out there.) The journey there was met with what some would call disaster, what others would call great fun. I would say that it was calming; Bronwyn may use the word frustrating when asked to describe her experience. What would have taken a four-hour drive to get there (I think) ended up taking six hours. You see, it’s quite windy here all the time. I have discovered that it only gets windier the further from Harlaxton that you get…it doesn’t matter what direction you are traveling in. The wind in the Northern part of England that day had caused a lorry (read: semi truck) to be blown over on the motorway (read: highway). This caused a diversion (read: detour) in traffic and a bit of a delay in arrival. We passed the time by sleeping, reading, doing word searches and Sudoku puzzles, and watching Braveheart. We were, after all, headed for Scotland.

Our diversion allowed us to see things that we would have never gotten to see otherwise. Boroughs, or small towns and villages, got to see something that they would have never gotten to see otherwise as well: a tour bus full of American students, headed from England to Scotland, all the while trying to be as British as possible. I’m sure it made for quite a sight. The weather immediately changed when we crossed the England - Scotland border. The wind was still there, and maybe stronger than ever. The clear skies suddenly turned to grey and the rain came down. Bear in mind that the rain here is really just a matter of showers or drizzle, and is constant. The showers that accompanied us on our journey this day, however, were just light enough to allow some sun to shine through. This meant that we got to see a beautiful rainbow for about 20 minutes. I loved the sight, and marveled at it as we drove. This was the sight that welcomed us to Scotland. It was gusts of wind that greeted us in the capital city.

A quick stop at the hotel to drop off our bags, and a night on the town was an order. We walked the Royal Mile, stopping in shops along the way to both shop for souvenirs and get out of the cold. We ate at a pub close to the bottom of the hill, where I watched (with amusement, might I add) as Caitlyn, Alicia, Jeni, and Rachealle tried haggis. They had mixed feelings about it, but common sense told me to just leave well enough alone. I may never know what haggis tastes like, but a little part of me is okay with that. I enjoyed my burger and chips, and probably wouldn’t change that meal if I could. Dessert, as always, was the best part.

The next day greeted us with the same drizzle and wind as the day before, but we left the hotel with coats on, gloves in our pockets, and hats close at hand. Gloves and hats quickly made it to their respective places. We spent that morning hiking to the top of Arthur’s Seat. I’m not sure of the point, but climbing the rocks on the side spaces was exciting. The wind helped us down the large mountain, and we went back up the Royal Mile in the other direction to get a Scotch whiskey tour. We met some friends for lunch, and then Caitlyn and I spent the afternoon in the National Art Gallery. I could gaze at those paintings forever…oh, how I wish I could learn that art, and learn it well! The rest of the afternoon, until dinnertime, was spent shopping and walking outside of various pubs as the beginnings of celebrations for Australia Day were getting underway. We found a nice one to eat at, and avoided haggis. After dinner we made our way to Mary King’s Close, a haunted underground street that was found when they were expanding the building for the treasury. I’m not a huge fan of the dark or of ghost stories…let’s just say that Caitlyn and I got really close that night. We went back to the hostel where a couple of our friends were staying. Talk over a game of Uno was how we passed the last hours before bedtime…and we decided that Caitlyn had gotten the best souvenir of all.
Hadrian’s Wall was a stop on the way back to Harlaxton. Unlike tourist sites in most places in the States, you got a workout getting to the top where Hadrian’s Wall actually was. The wall is there, along with ruins of an old Roman fort. The rich history was amazing, as was seeing where people lived and how they lived. Hadrian, a Roman emperor, built a wall that extended from one side of the English coast to the other, thinking that it would protect him from invaders from the North (i.e. the Scots). This was one point where there were troops stationed. Climbing up the rocks was great fun, but probably not allowed…we did it anyway, though. Several people tried their hand at sheep herding. If climbing the rocks wasn’t a wise decision, then the sheep herders should have probably been given a time-out. The wind was fierce, and you had to lean into it in order to stay upright. It was fine, as long as it didn’t change directions. We were prepared to put tethers on the smaller people, so it was fine…it wore us out enough that we slept a majority of the way back to Harlaxton, which was probably a blessing to Bronwyn.

The first of February saw my first independent travel day. A train ticket for Cambridge was in my hand, and that is where we ended up…no getting lost, no getting sidetracked, no getting left behind. It was just a nice day in Cambridge. Jeni, Alicia, Caitlyn, and I found a café in the City Centre that looked promising after spending some time in King’s College Chapel. That is where we chose to stop for lunch. After that we went in our separate directions. Caitlyn and I went toward Castle Mound. I say we went toward it, not to it, because that’s not where we ended up. We walked for several minutes. Minutes turned into half an hour, and we stopped for a bathroom break in a building with a round ceiling that looked fun from the outside. Turns out it was New Hall…a college. There was neither reason nor rhyme for us going in, but we were glad we did. There was more art, which I am quite fond of.

In continuing toward the mound, we found another building…this one shaped like a triangle, and tried to get to it. When we made it to the center of a neighborhood, we decided to turn around because we had been off of the map for quite some time. An hour later we were coming back to the bridge that we had left from…and there, to our left, was Castle Mound. Some people speak fondly of it; it was a nice view of the town and all, but to have a castle there…well, let’s just say that it had to be a really small castle, or a majority of the dirt has gone. We went from there to the canal banks, where we went punting. Our boat ride allowed us to see eight different colleges, and allowed many more photo opportunities. A warm beverage and a close friend spent time with me on the train ride back to Grantham. Some of the best conversations happen while there is nothing else to do.

Sunday afternoon was the first time that Crystal and I had seen our family since dinner that Wednesday. They took us shopping and then back to their house for a wonderful home-cooked meal. We learned the basics of Rugby, played with cats, and played a few games of Bop-it Extreme. After that, come about 8:00, we had our pens at the ready as we prepared for a pub quiz at the local pub. We shared drinks and helped our parents with American trivia questions that were asked. It was great fun, and we didn’t get back to Harlaxton until 11:30 that night. I opted out of the Super Bowl party which, because of the time change, was just getting started and decided it to be in my best interest to go to bed, seeing as there was a British Studies lecture at 8:30 the next morning.
Caskie Stinnett said, “I travel a lot; I hate having my life interrupted by routine.” I think that’s true, in some ways, but this semester travel is all a part of the routine. Travel is how I am going to get closer to the people that I am living with and know more about the places that I always see in pictures and on postcards. Travel is going to be my routine for this semester, and even though the ways that I go about travel may be a bit unconventional, they are how my travel will be fun. I’ll let you know in the next blog how it was that Caitlyn and I decided to go to Budapest and possibly Scandinavia. You might laugh a little bit to yourself…you might laugh out loud, for that matter, and it may have Matt and Bronwyn asking just what it was that was said in the independent travel seminar that made us want to travel so…independently.

This coming weekend is a long weekend…which means no class on Thursday for me! It also means that there is a test on Wednesday that I should probably start studying for. I need to brush up on our field trip to Lincoln, which took place the weekend after our jaunt to London. Rumor has it that there will be a question about it on the test, so I should probably know more about it than the dates that we went. Maybe, just maybe, I should know when it was built and why it is important…maybe.