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The London Adventures: Prologue: My London Calling

I have just returned from my 5-day school excursion to London, England. But first things first: I absolutely adored Kochi, Japan. I used to feel like I was cheating on my precious New York City every time I fell a bit more in love with Kochi. Oh sure, at that time, my favourite city in the world was definitely Sydney, but nothing compares to excitement that is New York City. But now I feel even guiltier because I have a serious crush on London, having spent a good week in there, I now can honestly say is my favorite place in the entire world. While I was there, I felt that I must have lived there already in a past life. The whole time I was there I had this weird familiar feeling, yet was acutely aware of experiencing everything for the first time. Since this is the prologue to the whole long story of my London escapades, I may as well start with everything I know. At my Lycee (High School) there is a program called European Anglais, whereby the students selects it as a supplmentary English program. They learn more advanced English (apparently...) and also the History of England in English. They have been planning their London excursion, since June, with approximately 20 spots, with the 2 teachers, Madame Baard and Madame Pomaret. Unfortunately in the beginning of October, one of the students dropped out because of an illness. They then searched for someone to take up the twentieth spot. That is where I come in. We departed for London on October 19, and she made the proposition for me to attend the trip on October 5. I had approximately 2 weeks to contact insurance agencies, muster up 350 Euros, prepare passports, and all that jazz. Luckily, Rotary decided to pay me my allowance for three months, and I had a spare 150 Euros laying around so the trip could be completely covered. I got it all done in 3 days, with the help of Leonie. I was set and going to London, the capital city of England, and a place that I have ALWAYS wanted to see in my entire life. But one thing you have to understand is that I am not a tourist. So when they first proposed the trip to me, I suspected it would be a tour to see Big Ben, Parliament House, and then all the other tourist traps of the city. But with 5 days, and two incredibly knowledgeable teachers, the group experienced London the way a Londoner would. (Except I reckon a Londoner would not speak French in England.) Oh London. I feel terrible when I refer to it as a city. It may as well be it's own country. But when you live in Fixin, a village of 715 people, any place that has their own supermarket or McDonalds ought to be it's own country. I am out for some hardcore shopping. Mind you hardcore shopping for me is maybe three post cards and a coffee if I am lucky. It pays to be the cheapest human being on the face of the Earth. After all, if I was not cheap, I probably would not be in France, and now London. Of course, I also have no choice but to be tight about money. I am seriously abused by the exorbinant exchange rate every time I open my wallet. In France, I just say $1 is .75 Euros. But in London, good gracious, $1 is .50 cents. It is utterly ridiculous, but I may as well accept the the things I can not change. For some odd reason, I found myself opening my wallet a whole lot in London. I haggled for an amazing fake Tokidoki bag in China Town (25 pounds to 15 pounds ! Score!) and a few other touristy contraptions. I also binged on Starbucks Mocha Frappucinos, which we do not have in France. I paid 3.25 pounds for a large on Thursday morning, which is the equavalent of over 6 dollars. Money well spent, in my opinion. I got called “retarded” by an jerky waitor at the cafe when I took to long to order, and got hit on by a goofy University of London boy in front of the Twinnings Tea Shop. Did I mention, I love London? But you know the thing about the big city, especially New York, because that is my big city, is that when I did live near there, I did not really LIVE there. I was so busy with either school, traveling, or work, or just trying to live that I never really enjoyed the experience of living in the one of the most amazing places on the planet. Now, every time I visit, I end up someplace and think: “How and why did I never come here before?” Maybe that is why I love London so much. Because even though I was there for only 5 days, it was an incredible 5 days, whereby I explored everything, absorbed more history lessons than I could have even hoped for, and was just all around enamored with the most incredible blend of modern city life and old historical matter. Even with horrible Charlie Horses during the night from all the walking, blisters on my feet the size of golf balls, chapped lips oozing with blood, a new annoyance with French tourists, I can honestly say that London is the greatest city in the world. At least for now. I am only 17 years-old and I have plenty of more traveling to do.

The London Adventures: Day I: The Odd One Out

In a previous post, I mentioned that my good friend Alex of New York, currently residing in New York is a 'creeper.' Creeper as in, when you share the same bed with her, she somehow manages to creep over to your side of the bed during the night. So you can imagine that I was not exactly surprised, when I woke up on the morning of my trip to London with Alex laying right next to me sound asleep. She had spent the night with me in Fixin, having hung out in Dijon for 6 hours the previous day with Andrew and me. At 6:30, we ate a quick breakfast and then jumped in Jean-Francois's car heading for the train station in Dijon. Alex agreed to wait with me for our departure, and also listened to me complain. I was having regrets about signing up to go because I felt like my French was springing forward and 5 days in England with French students trying to practice their second language skills was surely going to hinder that progress. Oh and I only known then what I know now! Once everyone of the twenty students had arrived, the teachers distrubuted out tickets for the train from Dijon to Lille. I was seated next to Morgane, a girl from my class, who was genuinely nice and became my best mate for the excursion. For the three hour train trip, she and I listened to her cell phone MP3 player and talked about how much we disliked school. When we arrived at Lille, we had just over a two hour layover in the station before departing for London. The group sat in a Quick, which is the French equvalent of McDonald's. I, of course, ordered myself a nice big coffee, while the others ran around and made fools of themselves in the play pit. It was just then that I became vaguely aware that I was the oldest student on the trip, by about two years physically, and about 10 mentally. But more on that later. We had to check in for the train 30 minutes early, since it is an international service. My classmates got through the service easily, since they are all members of the European Union. However, I had to check in with Customs and fill out a whole form about my intentions in the United Kingdom. The English Customs officer was really wonderful, however. He asked me all about my exchange in the 'Land of the Frogs' and ignored a few silly mistakes I made on the customs card. Once I was finished with signing in, he said, "All right you little Odd One Out, go on and enjoy London." I did not think too much of it at the time, but that is truly what I was the entire trip. The Odd One Out. The Eurostar Train is one of the most famous trains in the world because it utlizes the world famous Chunnel Tunnel underneath the English Channel. It is a high-speed train service in Western Europe connecting London and Kent in the United Kingdom, with Paris and Lille in France, and Brussels in Belgium. The trains run up to 300 km/h (186 mph) on a network of high-speed lines. We took the train from Lille to St. Pancras International Station in London. We entered the Chunnel, which only took approximately 20 minutes to get through, and was really just a black hole. The Channel Tunnel is a 50.5 km (31.4 mi) undersea rail tunnel linking England to northern France. At its lowest point it is 75 m (250 ft) deep. While the other students ate their lunches, I develged into Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets in French and tried not to think about the ocean above my head. Arriving in London was a great experience, everyone was excited and it was of a balloon popped when we exited the train. Choruses of hello! came from the group, which was probably the most English they spoke all week. I, myself, could hardly hard my excitement at being in Merry Old England! The group trekked through St. Pancras Station, hauling along our luggage, making our way to the nearest Tube Station. The teachers bought tickets and the group then proceeded to the train headed for the Picadilly Circus, where our Hostel was located. Having ridden New York, Kyoto, and Paris subways, I can honestly say that the Tube is truly a Tube. It is smaller and more rounded than other subways. And when you enter the train, there is a booming voice that says, "mind the gap," rather then watch your step. Packed in a train like sardines, our group finally arrived in the Picadilly Circus. More on that later. Instead of standing around, we quickly made our way to the Auberge de Juenesses, which is French for Youth Hostel. We piled into groups of 6 or 4 students to a room. I was placed with Morgane, Heloise, Oceane, Justine, and Juliette, and placed into a miniscule room with 3 bunk beds. We did not have any time to unpack and truly explore the hostel, because barely 5 minutes later, we were being ushered back outside to the streets of London. After a 25 minute walk through the narrow streets of London, the group arrived at the British museum. The British Museum is a museum of human history and culture in London. Its collections, which number more than 7 million objects, are amongst the largest and most comprehensive in the world and originate from all continents, illustrating and documenting the story of human culture from its beginning to the present. Since the London excursion was technically a school trip for an English and History class, the teachers prepared for us to do a presentation about a chosen topic. Morgane and I were given the Enlightenment of the World. We headed into the Enlightment room, where she and I searched for interesting pieces we could present to the class. It was fascinating to me to study such objects such as telescopes and ancient religious pieces. The Enlightment was the time when the people of the world sought out knowledge and let go of their precedents of the world. They began to understand that the Earth was not the center of the universe, Christianity was not the only world religion, and their were vast new and unexplored lands just beyond the ocean. After 45 minutes of exploring, Morgane and I presented our findings in front of the whole group. She talked about an object that showed the planets, whereby they actually revolved around the Sun and not the Earth, contrary to the popular belief of the time period. I presented an exhibit on ancient religious artifacts, which the Enlightenment thinkers used to learn about religions of the world. When we were finished we moved to the exhibit abut the America's. The Americas collection mainly consisted of 19th and 20th century items although the Inca, Aztec, Maya and other early cultures are well represented; collecting of modern artefacts is ongoing. After, we went to the Sainsbury African Galleries, displayed 600 objects from the greatest permanent collection of African arts and culture in the world. The three permanent galleries provide a substantial exhibition space for the Museum's African collection comprising over 200,000 objects. A curatorial scope that encompasses both archaeological and contemporary material, including both unique masterpieces of artistry and objects of everyday life. Next we explored the lifestyles of the ancient Egyptians. The British Museum houses the world's largest and most comprehensive collection of Egyptian antiquities outside the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. A collection of immense importance for its range and quality, it includes objects of all periods from virtually every site of importance in Egypt and the Sudan. Together they illustrate every aspect of the cultures of the Nile Valley, a time-span over 11,000 years. We also hurried through the exhibit about the ancient Greeks and Romans. Everyone's stomachs grumbling and the museum closing at 6, the group headed back to the Youth Hostel. Along the way, the teachers hurried into a variety of restaurants searching for a cheap meal for dinner. Unlike most excursions, the tour guides (teachers) had not pre-booked any restaurants. They figured that their English was good enough to just haggle for some cheap deals. They found the weirdest place, a Vegan Chinese restaurant that offered a 6.50 pound buffet per plate, including dessert. Madame Pomarat haggled with the Chinese man for a cheaper price, with drinks. I stepped in her place and said, "Look we have 22 people, we will pay you 5.50 for all-you-can-eat buffet with tap water and dessert. Take it or leave it." The Chinese man looked at me, shocked that my English was so good, and quickly agreed to my demand. It was in that moment, when I realized I had a skill for haggling. For me, dinner was incredible. Since I am a Vegetarian and half-Asian (sort of) I feasted. The rest of the group, on the other hand, was horrified at the food and at me for eating everything I saw. The boys of the group referred to some intriguing looking dish as cooked socks, and another dish as fingernail fungus. They also had a interesting time watching me master the chop sticks with utmost perfection. But they were annoyed when I explained to them that they must NEVER spear their food with the sticks, for it is the rudest custom in China and Japan. "How are we supposed to eat then?" I laughed as I watched my classmates fling food across the table in a desperate attempt to eat their food. And so, there I was again. The Odd One Out. The weird American, but not really. I did teach my classmates how to say thank you in Chinese, and the restaurant proprietors were pleased at the French students for attempting Chinese. Except I am not totally certain that my classmates were thankful for the food. They moaned about their hunger for the rest of the night. Back at the hostel, we really got a chance to explore the place. Located in the center of London, Piccadilly Backpackers Hotel literally has Piccadilly Circus on its doorstep, making it the most central hostel in London. This ideal spot is only minutes from London's most popular attractions; including the famous nightspot Leicester Square, the trendy area of Soho, the bustling shopping area of Oxford Street and London's renowned central Theatre Land. Even Trafalgar Square, Big Ben and the London Eye are within an average 10min walking distance from our entrance. However, it is also a Youth Hostel, and is also a bit grimey. The six of us were jampacked in a tiny room, which ended up working out just fine. Also for each floor, there were only two showers, for the whole floor. (Morgane and I cheated and snuck onto other floors for first dips on good showers.) Nevertheless, it was an awesome place for someone like me. There were hundreds of different nationalities, and I even got to practice my Japanese with a pair of two girls from Sapporo. That evening,while my French classmates decided to stay together and play cards with each other, I ventured into the common room. I met two really cute German boys, who live in Bielefield, Germany, which is also where Judii Hugeot (a former exchange student to New Jersey, and clase friend of my family) lives. We talked about traveling, and they the boys told me that they were living in the Hostel for over a month, working at a cafe during the day, partying at night, and loving the fabulous city of London. They gave me some good ideas *smiles sneakily* When the Germans left for a big party in Soho, London, I started talking to a man from Brighton, England, about the upcoming presidential election in the states. He was really well educated, and fabulous to talk to. He agreed with me that the election was incredibly important for the future of the world, but that either McCain or Obama will make a decent president, just with a different course of action. I was so disappointed when 10:00 came around, and Madame Baard asked me to head up to the room for lights out. Sleep came really easily for me that night. My bunk mates apparently spoke in French until about 2 in the morning, while I had drifted off into slumber at 10:15. It was a long day, but I had already known then that London and this trip was the beginning and start of something new.

The London Adventures: Day II: Lost in London

When you talk about London, somehow you will have to mention rain. Whether it be that it is raining, it was rained recently, or it will be raining soon. Luckily for our group, during the five days that we journeyed around London, it only rained once. It was during Monday evening in our free time period. I suppose this would not have been a bad thing, especially since it did mess up our plans in any way. Except it was the worst time for rain, because I was lost in London. We woke up bright and early Monday morning, quickly threw on some clothes, and headed down to the free breakfast that the Youth Hostel offered us. I indulged in some delicious British Tea, while I waited for the rest of the group to prepare for the day's excursion. In the morning, we were heading the Shakespeare Globe Theater. First we walked along London's Bankside, across the Thames, and enjoyed a few lesser known sights of the city, such as the Millennium Bridge. When we arrived at the Globe Theater, a lively giddy British woman greeted us for a tour of the theater. Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, which officially opened in 1997, is a reconstruction of the original Globe Theatre, an Elizabethan playhouse in the London Borough of Southwark, on the south bank of the River Thames. It is approximately 230 meters (750 ft) from the site of the original theater. The original Globe Theatre was built in 1599 by the playing company, Lord Chamberlain's Men, to which Shakespeare belonged, and was destroyed by fire on June 29, 1613 The fire was set by a cannon accident during a production of Henry VIII. The Globe Theatre was rebuilt by June 1614, and demolished in 1644. Now before I go any further, I just want to say that in High School at home, I have been unfortunate enough to read a variety of Shakespeare's plays. These include Romeo and Juliet, which I utterly despise, Macbeth, another loathing piece except for Lady Macbeth, Hamlet, which is far too emotional for me, and Taming of the Shrew. As you may have interpreted, I really can not stand reading Shakespeare, because it bores the heck out of me and is overly interpreted, in my opinion. Attending the Globe Theater was the last thing, I was looking forward to doing. But, now that I have gone there, I can honestly say that I am really grateful for having gone to the theater. Besides having shown off my incredible Shakepheare knowledge (I corrected the guide when she said the foil to Hamlet was Ferdinand, when it is actually Fortinbras!) I have come to accept that my feelings about Shakespeare plays spring from the fact that his plays were never intended to be read. They were meant to be seen, to be visual stories of agony, star-crossed lovers, and human nature. Having students read the plays is stupid because it is not what Shakespeare actually wanted. I now have a whole new feeling and aspect regarding Shakespeare pieces. After the tour of the theater, the guide decided to give us some acting lessons. We took the first scene of Hamlet, where Hamlet's dead father cries for his son to avenge him. Take 19 French students, who can barely communicate in English, and ask them to Shakespeare. It is truly hilarious! I helped out the guide a whole lot, and perhaps out of gratefulness, she commented that I should consider acting. All I have to say is, "HAHAHA!" After the Globe Theater, the group was scheduled to tour the Tate Modern Museum. I am not exactly the most aesthetic kind of person you could meet, but having lived in France for two months (especially with my host father, an amateur sculptor, who could talk for hours about carving clay,) I have undergone a transformation. I am suddenly intrigued by art, at least the kind of art that catches your eye and tells a story. I love bright colors and busy pieces that have history attached to them. The Tate is this huge monstrosity that is quite ugly. It was a former a factory converted into one of the most premier modern art museums in the world. After a disgusting lunch of mushy mayonnaise and bread, the group entered the museum. We had to complete a paper as an assignment, but Morgane and I decided to check out the special exhibit before we entered the museum. The piece was supposed to transport museum goers in 2058, a world where it only rains, and there are thousands of refugees. There was over 100 bunk beds, each with a futuristic anti-Utopian book on it. I picked out Fahrenheit 451, 1984, Brave New World, and many other classics that spelled pessimism for the future. Even though the exhibit gave me the chills and creep ed me out, I was pretty fascinated at the pessimism the artist spelled for the future of the world. Morgane had to drag me out of the exhibit before we ran out of time. The museum was incredible. Some stuff was weird and stupid, and I hated it upon first site. While other stuff, just fascinated me. I was disappointed that camera were not allowed. One exhibit that sticks out in my mind is the studio, that you have to prove you are 16 years-old to enter. I should have known then... The artist supplemented dozens of graphic sickening photos of nude people mutilating themselves, with movies and sound affects of people screaming bloody murder. It was awful, and I had to run to the bathroom to cool off after seeing it all. But my favorite exhibit was the Soviet Union propaganda poster. There were hundreds of colors of words in Russian, elevating Stalin and Socialism. I stayed in this room for over 30 minutes, reading the history and seeking to understand each propaganda piece. At the end of the time in the museum, the clouds were grey and ominous as we trekked back into the bustling part of London. We were given over 2 hours to shop on the world-famous Oxford Street, as part of free time. The teacher proceeded to explain in French, where we would meet. I heard McDonald's, and I spotted a McDonald's in the distance, that I figured was the one she was referring to. Morgane and I then set off to shop. I first took money off my debit card, and then nearly sprinted to Starbucks. It has been a long time, since I have had a Mocha Frappucino. Morgane bought a soccer uniform for her brother and tried to get me to admit that France was the best soccer team in the world. Meanwhile, I scoured the cheap Chinatown shops for some inexpensive trickets. Instead, I found a fake Tokidoki LeSportsac bag, that I just HAD to HAVE. I must have gove to 6 different shops looking for the cheapest price. Finally, I found a shop where I haggled for 20 minutes with the Chinese man, and got the price down from 25 pounds to 15 pounds, with a free wallet. I was sooo happy and content with my new TokiDoki bag, that I did not even care that it had begun to rain. Actually that is an understatement. It actually began to pour! Barely a few minutes passed, and my converse sneakers were soaked, and my Jeans were sticking to my legs. Morgane whined behind me, as I pranced through the streets perfectly content at my steal. At 6, we waited at the McDonalds for the rest of the group. At 6:10, Morgane and I realized that either they were all late, or we messed up. I urged her to call Madame Baard, but she complained that the cost was too much for a call in England. When finally Madame Baard made the first phone call, we realized that Oxford Street has about 40 McDonald's and we were currently sitting at the one on the other side of the meeting point. And so, we began a 3 kilometer run, in the pouring rain, pouncing in and out of various puddles, through London at night. After about 40 minutes of sprinting, we arrived to the frozen glares of our classmates, and to the angry clutches of the teachers. It was very easy for me to say, "guess what? you said it in French and quickly. I heard McDonald's, I went to the McDonald's. I had no idea it was the wrong one." Morgane, on the other hand, could not escape getting in trouble. She burst into tears and apologized and begged for forgiveness. Even though Madame Baard did not seem too upset, our classmates made horribly nasty comments about Morgane. They were just mad that we made them wait in the rain. It was so bad for her, that at the restaurant, she dropped her knife and fork in midair, and ran out of the restaurant balling her eyes out. The teachers then yelled at the rest of the class for being rude, while I just sat and devoured a plate of Fish and Chips is perfect ignorance. Which reminds me, Fish and Chips. Oh my god. There is nothing better than a plate a Fish and Chips in England. Sure I gave away all of Chips. But the Fish was INCREDIBLE. I had the choice to dip it in Tarter sauce, Barbecue Sauce, and Ketchup, and was nearly in heaven as I devoured the fish in a rapid speed. It warmed up my stomach, which had been feeling about guilty about getting lost. I felt so good, that I did not even flinch when the teachers announced we had a 45 minute walk back to the hostel in the rain. After all, my feet were destroyed with blisters and my Converse were soaked from all the puddles. I just stuffed some napkins in my socks, and linked arms with some of the girls in my class, singing French tunes and trekking back through London in the rain. We stopped at the original Hard Rock Cafe to get out of the rain, and then continued out stroll alongside to Hyde Park back to the Youth Hostel. When we arrived, I kicked off my shoes, examined me throbbing feet, and then raced to the shower. When I saw how long the line was, I grabbed Morgan and we snuck to another floor to get a long hot shower without having to wait. As you might be able to imagine, sleep came easily that night. But I worried about the state of my feet for tomorrow.

The London Adventures: Day III: Art, Dead People, Royalty, and Music

Dressed in my stained Khaki pants, in my furry white Roxy sweatshirt, under the purple plaid Jacket, nothing seemed to keep me warm. Of course, that was obviously my own stupid fault. I only packed one pair of sneakers for the trip, my Navy converse, which had tried swimming lessons in the puddles of London the day previously. In addition, my feet were covered with blisters, and my calves were a bit sore from the sprinting through London and endless walking. Plus I realized that I had forgotten an extra memory camera for my beloved camera, and would have to deleter some of my previous pictures to make way for the pictures of London. Yet, nothing could dampen my spirit. There is just something about the city of London, something I can not explain. After breakfast, the group began the trek to the National Gallery just off of the world-famous Trafalgar Square. We made another assignment to do in the museum, which was to answer questions about a few of the given paintings. I found this to be a real annoyance, because as I mentioned before, I am actually becoming intrigued by art. With the assignment, we had to rush through the museum in pursuit of the given portraits. After some time of answering stupid questions, I got frustrated and put the assignment away so that I could enjoy the painintgs housed in the National Gallery. There are really some true masterpieces by Picasso, Van Gogh, Van Eyke, and so may others. My favorite was definitely Van Gogh's Sunflowers, or the Arnolfini Portrait. I also latched on to a tour whereby the conductor was teaching a class of British students about the execution of Lady Jane Grey and a portrait of her gruesome death at the Tower of London. But in all honesty, I think the best part of the museum, was when I began to realize that I have an appreciation for art. Exiting the museum, and you face the world famous, Trafalgar Square. With its position in the heart of London, it is a tourist attraction; its trademark is Nelson's Column which stands in the centre and the four lion statues that guard the column. The name commemorates the Battle of Trafalgar, which was a British Navy victory of the wars against Napoleon. But the real treat for us was definitely the weather. Even though it was still quite chilly, you could honestly not beat the gorgeous sun rays and the brilliant blue sky that stretched over the city. After a dozen or so pictures, it was time for lunch at St. James park. It is nothing like Central Park, but it is truly picturesque, and absolutely gorgeous in the sun. While my classmates made fools of themselves snapping hundreds of photos of the stupid squirrels, I found myself a nice lawn chair and dozed off. Did I mention that there were quite a few comfy lawn chairs spread throughout the park for British sunbathers in the park? What a genius idea~! After lunch, we made our way over the world-renowned clock tower, Big Ben. Most people think that Big Ben is the name of the clock in the tower, but actually it is the name of the 13 ton bell located just behind the clock. It was named after it's maker, some guy named Ben. It was built in the mid-1850's, just alongside the Parliament building and is the most famous landmark of London and of all the United Kingdom itself. It really is incredible too. I got the same feeling a few weeks when I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time. You spend your whole life seeing these famous landmarks on television and in Pop Culture, hearing about other people venturing out to see these things, and now it is finally you turn. And you also find that you are not disappointed. Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, and all the other world landmarks are truly as spectacular as you had dreamed and hoped. It is a great a feeling and it makes you want to keep going, to keep venturing out and seeing it all. Right below the great Big Ben is a hectic street full of terrible traffic and dangerous intersections. Of course, being that funny stuff just tends to happen to me, my camera lens decided to make a quick escape. Directly into the middle of the busy intersection. Madame Baard knew how important my camera is to me, but she refused to let me sacrifice myself for the lens cap. Instead Madame Pomaret darted between the great red double-decker buses, dozens of angry Londoner cars, and risked her life for my little camera lens. I was so grateful to her, but she did not care because when she returned to the safe sidewalk, she dropped to her knees and thanked god for sparing her life. As we walked along on the way to Westminter Abbey, the teachers spotted an opening in a tour of the Parliament House, a really rare occasion. Unfortunately the wait was much too long, and we could not go. Instead we headed for the Westminter Abbey. The Collegiate Church of St Peter at Westminster, which is almost always referred to by its original name of Westminster Abbey, is a large, mainly Gothic church, in Westminster, London, just to the west of the Palace of Westminster. It is the traditional place of coronation and burial site for English and later British monarchs. Amazingly it has been the sight for almost every English monarch since the foundation of the country by William the Conqueror (a Frenchman, I might add.) Since we were a large group, we entered the abbey from the backside and were immediately stricken by it's impressiveness. Founded in the 1000 century, the abbey houses the graves of the most famous people in the world, including Queen's Mary and Lizzie, Bill Shakespeare, Charley Darwin, Isaac Newtie, Billy Penn, Eddie the Confessor, and a shoot load more incredible people. (I gave them nicknames because if I said their real names, I would feel really insignificant.) Of course, I have had this policy all of my life of never stepping on a grave. Whenever I would go to a graveyard with my parents, I would get really upset if I disturbed a grave. The problem is that if you actually planning on keeping your feet on the ground in the Abbey, you will be stepping on a grave. Since I have not yet learned how to fly, I had to walk. There are so many dead people, famous, evil, fun, and so on and so forth. I especially the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Almost every country in the world has a tomb of the unknown soldier buried in a famous place. For example, France buried an unknown warrior underneath the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. But what I especially liked about the Tomb in the Abbey was that it said something like, "Even though we do not know who this bloke was, we decided to bury him among the greatest people in history because he died fighting for his country and what not." Alright so it was not in that sort of form, but it did seem rather funny for me upon reading the inscription on the grave. I think honestly, even though it would be a great honor to be buried in the abbey, I would prefer not to be. It felt like a giant popularity contest, who was greater, inflicted more damage, or changed history more. In the tomb of Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, I stood among two sisters, two differing religions, two views that changed England and the world during the Reformation. Peering up at the Coronation chair, I viewed the very furniture that English kings and queens have been corona ted in since the very beginning of the Monarchy. Being amongst such greatness, such fascinating history is chilling at times, and incredible at others. For me, being the kind of person intrigued by the very concept of history, the venture to Westminster Abbey was worthwhile and amazing. Madame Baard could not help but chuckle at the excitement I spewed from my mouth, as I interrogated her on the history of Edward the Confessor and King William and Queen Mary's burial in the Abbey. Unfortunately time was dwindling, and we had a bit of a tight schedule to stick to. After a brief stroll through the Abbey gardens, the group began the trek to the Victoria Station. First, we passed through the Buckingham Palace area. For the first time, I saw the Queen's guard in the courtyard protecting the royal family. The guards are those famous red-clodded men, with the black fur hats, made from real bear. Most people think they are some sort of acting or show put on by the royal family, but I saw how big those guns were that they carried. They were no actors. My classmates and I stood outside the palace gates and peered into Buckingham Palace, first used by Queen Victoria in the mid-1800's. I did not see any royal family, but I am beginning to understand why the British continue to tolerate their Royalty, and even love the monarchy. It had all to do with tradition, an adjective which the British love. They love knowing they have a fabulous history, and an intriguing monarchy. Often they claim that it is the oldest in the world, but this is not the case (*cough* Imperial Japan *cough*) While the French are enormously proud that they murdered their king, the British are embarrassed at the incident when Oliver Cromwell killed Charles I. SO much so that if Charles becomes king, he will not be called Charles, because it is seen as unlucky. Moving on, the teachers took us to a fancy Italian restaurant just across from the Victoria Tube Station. I ate an awful tasting pizza, followed by some questionable flavored Ice Cream, until the exactly 7:00, when it was time to leave. This is because the group had tickets to the London Theater play, Billy Elliot. The musical revolves around motherless Billy, who trades boxing gloves for ballet shoes. The story of his personal struggle and fulfilment are balanced against a counter story of family and community strife caused by the 1980s coal miners' strike. For me, I had an incredibly hard time understanding the play because it was spoken in Northern British English, which may as well be it's own language it's own right. My classmates kept asking me what was going on and I was not able to tell them all the time. Even though I really adore Broadway plays, I was very disappointed with Billy Elliot. It was not what I had hoped it would be, but I am still glad to have been able to say a Musical in the London theater. When the play was finished, we all hurried back to the Youth Hostel, quite tired from the long day. After a quick shower, I hoped into bed, and was asleep not 2 minutes later.