Europe (Part IV): Stonehenge

25 July 2014

Stonehenge: one of the great wonders of the world. How was it built? Why was it built? No one knows...

Our coach ride to the stones took two hours, during which I had a good conversation with Casey, the RA here for CCSA. Once we arrived at Stonehenge, the coach parked and out we climbed to the visitor centre. Stonehenge was nowhere to be found. However, a short bus ride through a wooded area and over a hill took us to the field. Surrounded by farmland and sheep pastures, Stonehenge is not done up to be a huge attraction. The land is not polluted with tourism. Beyond the visitor centre and the stones themselves, nothing seems to suggest that a wonder of the world is there.

Wow, Stonehenge is wonderful. We took an hour and a half to slowly walk around the premises of the sight. At the closest point, we probably stood fifteen metres from the outer circle. Stonehenge consists of three elements: the outer circle of smaller triglyphs, the inner horseshoe of larger triglyphs, and a horseshoe of blue stones within the horseshoe of inner triglyphs. Stonehenge towers out of the ground and definitely could be taken to be a large stone clock or calendar or shrine. The stones come from around the countryside, up to fifty miles away. It took 600 men one year to move a large stone 20 miles. It must have taken thousands of men decades to construct the ancient ruins.

After having lunch under the shadow of the rocks, we drove into Salisbury to see the most beautiful and largest cathedral in Europe. Because its steeple rockets over 400 feet in the air, the entirety of the building slightly leans in to support its massive weight. Even the steeple slightly leans from the years of stress. The inside of the cathedral stretched on for miles, it seemed. The ceiling touched the clouds. The echo lasted for what seemed like minutes. Take the largest building you've been in and amplify it times ten; then you'll grasp the enormity of Salisbury cathedral.

While we had some free time in Salisbury, Amanda and I walked around the little shoppes and had tea at The Boston Tea Party. The return journey to Hampstead took just about three hours because we hit some heavy traffic in West London. Once we returned and had dinner, Oluseun (one of the workers at the refectory) took a group of us out to the Black Lion for some light grub and then back to campus where we played billiards and cards and ping pong into the night. It was very entertaining, because we taught each other different games. For example, Oluseun had never played crud, a version of billiards that I have played plenty of times back home. He taught us some card games that are native to the British. By three in the morning, we all either fell asleep or went to our rooms to snooze.

26 July 2014

We literally missed the train by five seconds, so we sat down at Ritazza for a cup of coffee for an hour, until the next train left for Cardiff, Wales. About two hours after 1045, we arrived at Cardiff and blindly walked around until we found Church Street. The challenge of a day's holiday in Wales: Welsh. We do not speak or read Welsh, but every street sign and direction is in the foreign language. Even the train station was a challenge. Upon our return from Cardiff, we had to seek assistance to read the departures sign. This is what Welsh looks like: Simwe Dda, yn Gymraeg. Good luck getting around with that...

A little corner shoppe next to the Church of Cardiff found our service; I had a chocolate filled donut, a jelly filled donut, and a meaty calzone. We listened to the church bells go on for about fifteen minutes – apparently this is in response to the wedding that had completed as we were finishing our lunch. We watched the bride and her new husband walk out of the church and into a barrage of camera fire. We hurriedly finished our meals and walked to a nearby visitor centre to figure out what to do for our day in Wales.

Parker, Alan, and I decided to check out the Cardiff castle and museum. The three of us were in Wales without an agenda, for the day, for holiday. The castle sat upon a hill in the middle of a huge field, surrounded by a high wall. It was in the state of ruins, but still held an impressive look over the surrounding area. The museum had some Welsh art, but most of our time here was spent in the dinosaur exhibit. Alan loves dinosaurs.

Then something somewhat terrifying occurred. When we were leaving the museum, a pro-Palestinian rally began in front of the museum. We had to walk through hundreds of Middle Eastern activists that were chanting and shouting in Palestinian. Although we were in Wales, UK, we did not want to stay around for long. Palestinian flags were waving and, as Israeli supporters, we were not in the right place. So, as quickly as we could, we went away from the rally and towards the train station.

Along the way, and out of the line of fire of the rally, we walked around Welsh shoppes--where I bought a Welsh flag--and sat down in a pub, where Alan and Parker got a pint and I got a cuppa joe (aka a cuppa joy). We conveniently stayed five seconds too long and, upon our return to the station, missed the train to London by five seconds again. So, we had about an hour and a half to spare and went into another pub. This pub contained two or three hen parties and a few stag parties, so we quickly found another place to sit down. The third pub was calmer, so we sat down and had a pint of cider and let our legs rest. We laughed at the fact that all three pubs we entered today were the exact same: the Duke of Wellington(s). This chain of Welsh pubsteraunts (pub/restaurant) was a strange combination of family style sit-down, rowdy English pub, and casino all-in-one.

Finally boarded, the train slowly backed out of the Cardiff station and took us under the bay to Bristol, England. We actually got off here (spontaneously) to get dinner. On the train ride from Cardiff to Bristol we befriended a 13 year-old Indian boy who told us about his life spent in India, the UK, and Africa. He was brilliant, probably smarter than the three of us combined. His name was Abhijith and his mother was a professor at the University of Bristol. She taught law. His dad was a doctor, but his parents are divorced. He knew more about US history than we did. Anyway, I think we should all befriend a British schoolboy at some point in our lives.

When we got off the train at Bristol, we began walking towards the centre of town and then hopped in a stranger's car. She took us whizzing down the streets of Bristol in her tiny car, narrowly dodging pedestrians and busses by centimetres. Sure, the stranger was Abhijith's mom, but still...we had not met her until she pulled over next to us and said, "Get in." She dropped us off at the boardwalk, where restaurants line the river and the people sit along the bank. We had dinner at McKenzie's. I had nachos with guacamole, salsa, and sour cream. It was delicioso.

After we finished eating, we strolled along the boardwalk and through Queen's Park before getting back to the station. We missed the train by five seconds - of course - and had another hour and a half to wait. I fell asleep after finishing my cup of coffee and was woken up by the sound of the train coming into the station. We tried to sit in first class, but had to leave once we found out it would cost £40 to upgrade. The peace and quiet of first class was quickly replaced with the loud drunkenness of a bunch of teens on holiday. The train ride took two hours and we arrived at Paddington at midnight. Straight home and straight to bed, we had a jolly holiday in Wales and Bristol and quite a bit of bad luck with the trains.

27 July 2014

I would like to call today a lazy Sunday. I slept in until 1100 and slowly got out of bed. I originally had planned to wake up and attend the morning service at Westminster, but the tiredness of my 0800-self overpowered my will to awaken. After I got dressed and stretched, I headed out to the market. Leadenhall Market is the location of the Leaky Cauldron from the Harry Potter films. Although there is not a magical connection to Diagon Alley, Leadenhall Market is a magical place: covered with a clear glass and red wood overhang, the narrow streets are cluttered with shoppes and people. It is almost like stepping out of London and into Olivander's or Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. There is even an alley that has a ceiling of old books, suspended from invisible string. The atmosphere of Leadenhall was otherworldly.

After my stroll through the market, I grabbed lunch at Pret a Manger: a roast beast and cheese sandwich and a cup of filtered coffee, black. I think that my obsession with coffee has overcome my desire to stay cool. Whenever I see "coffee" on the menu, I want to order it, even if the temperature is above 27 C. After I finished my lunch, I took the tube over to Westminster, where I attended evensong.

I silently let tears fall from my eyes as the choir and organ danced in my ears, echoing off of the vaulted ceiling, balcony, and the many kilometres of granite. I watched them praise The Lord from the Canada chair, which sat me directly behind the choir. I was one of the first of the congregation to enter the abbey and took up the offer to sit with the choir rather than with everyone else. It was the opening song that left me in tears while I stared at my surroundings. While the ground level of the sanctuary was dark and quiet, the level of the flying buttresses and ceiling were illuminated with radiant light. How powerful a message! We are useless and sinful humans, lost in our wrongdoings. All the while, God is sitting above us in glory and honour. He is beautiful, watching us like a Father and a Lover.

After the hour-long service finalized and the choir and clergy exited, I wandered around the sanctuary. I saw the graves of Sir Isaac Newton, Charles Dickens, all kings and queens of England, Shakespeare, and even stepped on Charles Darwin. I could not photograph these graves (for obvious reasons), but I will never forget Poet's Corner or the ominousness of the reality that I was surrounded by more of the dead than the living.

On my way home, I stopped at Sainsbury's to grab some snacks, bread, honey, etc.. I got home leisurely and did laundry, studied with some friends in Bay Hall, had dinner, and went to bed.

28 July 2014

Another day of classes. Today I had to lead the class with a presentation on The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime and Mark Haddon. My section of this group project focused on whether or not Mark Haddon intersected his past experience with autistic young people and his first adult work having a young and seemingly autistic protagonist. Although my research and paper concluded that Christopher is not autistic (supported by the facts that one: an interview shortly after the book's popularity skyrocketed stated that Haddon was not an expert in autism and did not intend for his protagonist to have Asperger’s; and two: a post on his blog stated that Christopher was not autistic), I do honestly believe he is. As readers, according to James Wood, we have the authority to interpret fiction as we wish, as long as our assumptions do not alter or interfere with what is within the work already. Then again, new criticism argues that we cannot assume anything—which we must only take what is within the work as truth. Whatever the case may be, our presentation on the topic was well prepared and executed successfully.

After MMM, I went to Inklings, where we finally discussed Tolkien and The Hobbit. I personally think that Middle Earth is the greatest subcreation and mythopoeic story of all time. J.R.R. Tolkien is my favourite writer of fantasy. The Hobbit is a fantastic children's adventure story, and I know that I will read it to my children and my children's children when the time comes. It is rich with morality, bravery, excitement, and adventure.

After class, I did some studying before heading to dinner. After dinner, a few of us went into West Hampstead to enjoy deep conversation and jolly good laughter. Once the joy of the night had simmered down, we slowly wandered back to campus, where we watched a movie.

Now, I have never seen Pulp Fiction until now, and I must say that I absolutely found it hilarious. Christopher Walken is one of the most ridiculous actors and his cameos always crack me up. Pulp Fiction definitely tickled my fancy. After we finished the film, I headed off to bed.

29 July 2014

Sleeping in until ten feels like sleeping in forever. I feel well rested but, at the same time, don't want to waste the day away. Granted, sleeping for eight hours last night was a lot more than usual! After waking up and getting situated, I worked on my final paper for MMM. I will be discussing how the Deathly Hallows in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows served the purposes of historicizing the relationship between Harry Potter, Severus Snape, and Tom Riddle and breaking the walls of rationality and mythopoeia of the wizarding world. I think this paper will turn out well!

After writing for a bit, I headed out to Wahaca, a Mexican restaurant in Covent Gardens. I was meeting Chloe and Elise there at noon. Wahaca had a great lunch deal: two large tacos for £5ish. I ordered two cactus tacos and horchata. This was my first experience with cactus consumption; it was very gooey and very crunchy, all-in-one. This was also my first experience with horchata; I am now an avid fan of horchata. It was extremely delicious!

After finishing our texmex, the three of us took the tube home, where I resumed my studies. By 1700, I finished up my work for the day and headed to dinner. At 1800, my MMM class hit the road for our class trip to see The Curious Incident play. It was performed in the theatre district at Gielgud Theatre.

SPOILER ALERT: this play was amazing. The set is a very large black and white cube: the left, right, and back walls are black, lined with a white grid pattern. The floor is likewise. The edges of these grids are large prisms of light. That is the set. There are about nine performers within this play, the main one being Christopher Boone. The other performers also act as props - leaning to serve as a bed, swinging to serve as a door, etc.. The box set also served as a character. It sometimes had drawings upon it, or maps, or even stairs and railings. It lived, constantly changing and flashing numbers and thinking. It is as though the box itself was the inside of Christopher's autistic brain.

After the play finished, Christopher came back out on stage to perform his solution to his favourite problem on the maths level-A examination. It paralleled so well with the book! Everything was perfect. When mentioning things within the play (that were mentioned in the book), all things related to Christopher's writing of a book were replaced with his writing of this play. We in fact have fallen into his play as characters ourselves; he searches under his father's bed and shines a flashlight at us; he mentions that he is in a play when referring to the age of a man being too old to be a police officer. And even these fourth wall breaks were beautifully performed. And so all I have for this play is praise. I loved the acting, the set, the props, the use of light and sound and emotion(lessness). It was definitely a modern play, nothing like Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap. It was unique. I would recommend that, given the opportunity, everyone should see The Curious Incident play.

And so the play ended and we headed home. When I got home, I did a little more writing with some friends before falling asleep, still thinking about the play that had just drawn me into the mind of an autistic fifteen year old boy.

30 July 2014

Today, Inklings class ventured into London and visited the war museum instead of sitting in a hot classroom for three hours. The war museum was moving for two reasons. One: the world wars are far more prominent in the hearts and minds of the British as a people than the Americans as a people today. I do not want to diminish in any way the patriotism of the soldiers of the American military nor do I want to imply that Pearl Harbor was any less than what it was. But the people of London were constantly under the threat of air raids and invasion. They heard the rallying speeches of Hitler from their radios. While we had the security of an ocean separating us from the Third Reich, the British were on its doorstep. And for that reason, the people of Britain rallied together in fear and in bravery under the direction of Churchill. The impact of the war can be seen in the sobering artifacts and exhibits in the museum and the way the people walk slowly through to feel the weight of what happened on this very land many years ago. Two: it is the 100th year anniversary of the Great War. The queue for the exhibit was out the door. People were coming to honour their history. The exhibit for the Great War was heart wrenching. The number of dead soldiers, the pain felt back home from families, the discomfort of the trenches; it makes a heart heavy to embrace that people experienced such a hell a hundred years ago.

And then there was the Holocaust exhibit, the nuclear bomb, the bombed Jeep of an Afghan journalist, and the battleship cannons. We only had two hours to visit the museum, which was nowhere near enough time to see everything in detail. But we had to return for lunch and our other classes.

On a lighter note, MMM class has finally gotten into Harry Potter. We discussed Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling, and the gospel of Harry Potter. I've been thinking more and more about how Rowling's faith can be applied to her work. Harry Potter is like Jesus; Dumbledore is like God the Father; Snape is like Paul; the Ministry of Magic is like the Pharisees/Sanhedrin; and the students of Hogwarts are like the people of Jerusalem. I could keep going on this idea, but it is important that I do not assume Rowling wanted to write an allegory.

After class, I spend time finishing my final paper for MMM. I am actually quite pleased with my work. I was afraid that the material would corner me and leave me without a place to take it, but I've successfully incorporated my ideas together into a solid argument.

Although it may not seem like much to you, we were spoiled tonight at dinner. In addition to the usual grub, the refectory staff gave us KitKat bars! I cannot express enough how excited I was to finally have something with taste value for dinner. After dinner, I finalized my paper before heading out to Parliament Hill with Amanda and Sara. It is about a mile and a half away from campus. The trek is quite challenging there, because it is entirely uphill. But the view is worth it. Walking through Hampstead Village was delightful, and to sit down upon the hill was beautiful. Parliament Hill is a large hill in northern Hampstead, the bottommost point of the Heath. It has been cleared and supplies the most expansive view of the city. You can see the shire surrounding London, the Shard, the London Bridge, Big Ben, the steeple of Westminster Abbey, the Eye, and so on. You actually can see around every side of the hill: a natural panorama. We sat on a bench while the sun set and embraced where we were and how blessed this experience has been. After about two hours upon Parliament Hill, we walked by George Orwell and John Keats’ homes, back to campus, and watched some tele before hitting the hay.