By Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
Thirty hours doesn’t sound like that much, but it ended up being just enough.
Barcelona, two hours by plane from where I’m studying in London, is a gorgeous, dynamic city that I was lucky enough to see this weekend. While it was a short trip (we arrived at our hostel at 1:15 a.m. on Saturday and landed back in London at 8 a.m. on Sunday morning), we managed to squeeze an unbelievable amount of sightseeing and fun in.
After an extremely late dinner and drinks experience at a bar by our hostel, we went to bed in our 8-person room at 3:30 a.m. and woke up at 9 a.m. Not to be deterred by a lack of sleep, we got up and out quickly and went straight to Casa Batlló in the heart of Barcelona.
The museum, a previously built house resigned by architect Antoni Gaudí (who, as far as I could tell, is basically worshiped by Barcelona’s residents and historians) in 1904, was well worth the visit. While Gaudí’s work isn’t traditionally beautiful, it is certainly fascinating to look at and unlike anything I’ve seen in the U.S., or anywhere else in my travels.
Later on in the day, we saw Park Güell — which was free to enter after 6 p.m. — also designed by Gaudí and also very colorful and structurally interesting. There were tower-like mosaic structures, a mosaic dragon fountain and a huge mosaic lizard that has become a sort of symbol of the city.
No trip to Barcelona is complete without a trip to the famous La Sagrada Família, also designed by — you guessed it — Gaudí.
Still incomplete after more than 130 years, it is a Catholic church visible from miles away. While I personally think the church’s famous side (all four sides of the church are remarkably different and tell a different story) looks like a castle a child would make on the beach, it is extremely impressive in its scale and design. I could have looked at it for hours. We didn’t get to tour the inside, but it was hard to see and do everything we wanted in such a short time.
My favorite part of the day was going up to Tibidabo, a mountain overlooking Barcelona. We took the metro and then walked up a steep hill to catch the Tibidabo Furnicular up the side of the mountain to its summit. There was an amusement park and a massive, beautiful church and a restaurant up at the summit. We got to see the most stunning views of Barcelona, the beach and the surrounding water.
After all this and walking around the piers, the famous Las Ramblas and the city’s financial district, I researched paella restaurants and we ended up at Can Majo by the beach for dinner. We enjoyed raw oysters, white wine and paella “Can Majo” style that was, if you like seafood, life-changing. The seafood was extremely fresh and came to the table in an authentic paella pan.
After dinner, we met up with my friend from high school and her friends who we stayed with at our hostel at Chupitos bar. Hundreds of “chupitos” (which is literally translated to “shots”) were the only items on the menu.
From there we went down to Barcelona’s legendary clubs, which sit one by one right on the beach, before finally grabbing our bags and heading back to the airport. We hopped on the plane without going to bed and, upon our arrival back in London, had a full night’s worth of sleep.
While we rushed around all day in a manner no Spaniard would ever dream of, I greatly enjoyed my time in Barcelona. I would love to go back someday, maybe when La Sagrada Família is finally finished.
By Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
After an absolutely amazing week of travel, I’m back home and safe in South Kensington. My friends and I took spring break to the next level by traveling from London to Budapest, Hungary and then making our way over to Lisbon, Portugal. From there, we jetted on home and back to reality.
Budapest, the capitol of Hungary and home to 2 million of the country’s 10 million total residents, is split in two by the Danube River. With “Buda” on one side and “Pest” on the other, it’s easy to see why people say the eastern European city has dual personalities: Buda is filled with beautiful old buildings like the Citadella and is comprised mostly of narrow, crooked streets while Pest is home to gorgeous, sweeping boulevards and boasts much of the city’s nightlife.
We climbed up to see the Citadella and trekked over to Parliament as well, a sprawling building topped with dark red domes. After a long day of sightseeing, we went to Trofea Grill. Thankfully, it was delicious and well worth the money because we took a wrong turn, arriving finally after trudging through the enormous city park and most of the rest of Pest.
The “ruin bars,” located in Pest not too far from the Danube, are amazing. Massive bars fill what used to be industrial space all along this district. The first ruin bar in Budapest was Szimpla Kert. With multiple floors with several rooms on each (including a wine bar, hookah lounge and dance floor), you could get lost inside forever, but you probably wouldn’t mind.
The following day, we spontaneously decided to treat ourselves to “fish pedicures,” which are extremely popular in Hungary. I’m not really sure how to describe this without it sounding disgusting, but essentially, little tiny fish eat the dead skin off your feet while you sit in a spa chair, soaking up to your knees. My friend CJ, who had never had a pedicure before, said it was the best 30 minutes of his life.
After that, we bathed in 100-degree water in Budapest’s most famous thermal baths, the gorgeous Szechenyi Baths, which was an excellent way to decompress before our four-hour flight to Portugal the next day at 5 a.m.
Lisbon, the capitol of Portugal, is stunning. I was shocked at how beautiful it was, nestled up against the Tagus River. Built up on seven hills, the houses and buildings (most topped with red roofs) seemed to be stacked up on top of each other, painted white, yellow or vibrant pinks and blues. All the streets and sidewalks were made of small square white stones and were so clean.
We enjoyed an extensive walking tour through our hostel, Home Hostel Lisbon (which I would highly recommend to anyone visiting Portugal), on the first day. The second day, we took a short train ride to Sintra, Portugal, and explored the town and one of its castles, Pena National Palace. The castle, a bit of a hike, was worth the day trip with its mix of architectural styles and its views of the surrounding woods and Lisbon.
After not particularly loving Budapest’s Hungarian cuisine, my friends and I were determined to have an authentic, delicious Portuguese dinner. We settled upon Taberna da Rua das Flores, a tiny restaurant with a 90-minute wait that was completely worth it. We ate the freshest seafood, the most delicious pork and the most decadent desserts (not to mention the homemade fresh fruit cocktails and the Portuguese wine). Some highlights included the steamed mussels, the salmon and scallop ceviche and the passionfruit cheesecake.
While I am very glad to be back in my flat in London (and to start my internship tomorrow), I already miss Budapest and Lisbon. They were two of the most exciting and gorgeous cities I’ve ever visited and I know someday that I’ll be back.
By Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
Edinburgh, home to less than 500,000 people, is an absolutely amazing city that I was lucky enough to visit this weekend (and if I can feel that way about a place just after an eight-hour bus ride from hell, you know it’s true).
100 mile-per-hour crosswinds (at least, according to our bus driver) engulfed our bus all the way from London’s Victoria Coach Station to Edinburgh, making it a thoroughly terrifying ride. Someone on the bus actually blessed himself about 30 minutes in.
We finally arrived in the rain-soaked capital of Scotland at 6:20 a.m., wind-battered but not too worse for the wear.
After a short trek through the gorgeous and deserted streets, we slept off some of our nerves at our hostel (Budget Backpackers, a really cool and off-beat place with surprisingly comfortable beds) and then got right to sightseeing.
My roommate and I first wandered around Edinburgh Castle, an absolute must for any tourist in Scotland. The views from Castlehill and the summit of the castle were breathtaking and worth the price of admission on their own. We also got to see the historical dwellings of old Scottish royalty, the birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots’ only son, James VI and an old jail that housed prisoners of war.
Next on the agenda, after a pint at Deacon Brodie’s tavern and a delicious dinner at a bistro called Maxie’s, was a City of the Dead ghost tour. On a complete whim, I decided we should check it out and booked us tickets for the 8:30 p.m. walking tour, which took place mostly in Greyfriars Kirkyard. According to our tour guide, Greyfriars (a huge cemetery in downtown Edinburgh) has the highest concentration of dead bodies anywhere in the entire world. Pretty disgusting stuff, if you ask me, but definitely good fodder for a creepy evening.
We got to walk in and around closed-off Greyfriars tombs and hear all about George Mackenzie, a ruthless man responsible for the violent deaths of thousands of Covenanters (members of the Scottish Presbyterian movement), whose spirit allegedly haunts Greyfriars and is responsible for seriously injuring nearly 400 of its visitors since Mackenzie’s tomb was disturbed by a homeless man in 1999. The existence of this “spirit” is highly debated; whether it is just a spooky legend, a series of coincidences or a real “poltergeist,” I guess we’ll never know.
After a fun night in the Grassmarket area of Edinburgh (once famous for its public hangings, now known for its wide range of pubs, hostels and hotels), we woke up early to climb up to the highest point in Edinburgh, referred to as “Arthur’s Seat.” After an extremely muddy hike, we reached the summit and saw all of Edinburgh and its stunning scenery. I was so impressed by every landmark in the area — it seemed like every building we encountered was more beautiful than the last.
All in all, I had an amazing weekend in a gorgeous, historical city.
By Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
If you know me at all, you know I am crazy about the Winter Olympics. From ski jumping to curling to skeleton, there isn’t one event I don’t enjoy watching.
As an avid skier and general athletic enthusiast, I grew up on snow (I was a competitive alpine ski racer for 13 years). My parents have always joked that I can ski better than I can walk, which, according to the many scars on my knees, might be true.
So, as you can imagine, realizing that I was going to be in a foreign country for the entirety of the 2014 Sochi Olympics sort of stressed me out. How was I going to be able to ensure I could watch Ted Ligety fight to win his second Olympic giant slalom gold medal?
It turned out to be easier than I had imagined.
Luckily, the British Broadcasting Corporation, also known as BBC, allows no advertisements and thus has no incentive to embargo events until prime time.
Unlike NBC back in the U.S., BBC is paid for directly by citizens of the countries in which it is broadcast. Everyone who buys a television in the U.K. has to pay a “license fee,” which funds BBC and its many channels. For a color television, this fee is £145.50 per year, according to BBC’s website, which is equivalent to approximately $238.60.
So, this morning, even before I got out of bed, I was able to live-stream the men’s downhill medal heat right to my phone via BBC. And I haven’t had to miss many events. I got to catch Hannah Kearney, my favorite Olympian – who, before her US Ski Team days, skied for the Waterville Valley BBTS just like I did – capture the bronze medal in women’s freestyle skiing as it happened.
My friends and I also got to see the opening ceremony in real-time, unlike all our friends back in Boston and all over the U.S. (it was also interesting to see Americans tweet about the show later on, and to see them react to what we had seen hours before).
BBC also does a good job broadcasting all performances for each event. So, regardless of how well the U.S. does, we over in the U.K. can watch our hometown heroes compete, which has made watching the Olympics a much more patriotic, social event for us expatriates. We’ve spent the last few afternoons and nights crowded around the basement television, dinner plates in our laps.
Speaking of which, I’ve got to run and catch the re-airing of the downhill competition. There’s no way I’m going to miss an opportunity to watch Bode Miller’s (kind of disappointing) run again. Go team USA!
By Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
You could get almost anything you’ve ever wanted and more at Notting Hill’s Portobello Road Market.
Stretched out along a winding road in downtown London, the famous market takes on a life of its own each weekend. There are booths overflowing with all manner of things, including beautiful jewelry, vintage records, handmade leather journals, crappy used CD’s and real fur coats.
If that weren’t enough, there is food and drink from every corner of the globe available to anyone who wants it. Among other things, I saw Spanish paella, Italian bruschetta, Belgian waffles and an endless selection of French cheeses.
Musicians line the streets, serenading shoppers all day long. Stands open bright and early and some don’t close up shop until dinnertime. Locals and tourists alike can mill about all day long and never get bored. My friends and I killed several hours there, just taking in the sights. We browsed around a vintage rock t-shirt shop, ate delicious crepes and made friends with merchants.
The Portobello Road Market was a lot like street fairs at New York City, but had a completely different vibe. Everyone was friendly — with the exception of one guy at a vintage record booth who was a complete jerk to my friend for no good reason — and encouraged us to look through their goods and had no issues if we chose to not part from our money. I took pictures freely and was met with many friendly faces along our (long) walk up and down Portobello Road.
Notting Hill itself is beautiful, too. Many of the houses have colorful exteriors and the whole neighborhood had a cheery feel to it matched by no other place I’ve yet encountered in the city. There were cinemas and off-beat pubs and artist shops on every corner. It felt like SoHo in New York City, except less retail-oriented and much cozier.
Afterward, we hiked on over to Harrods, a department store famous for its luxury goods and its absolutely unrivaled food court (if you can even call it that). The store’s confectionery department alone is enough to put any foodie over the edge — truffles of all shapes and sizes filled glasses cases on every wall. There was also a fresh fish market, gourmet butcher shop and a raw oyster and champagne bar. Harrods also boasts an amazing beauty department and clothing section, as well as a transport system they called the “Egyptian escalators,” where shoppers zip up and down on escalators bedecked with gilded sphinxes. While riding up and down, we were also serenaded by an opera singer in a full ball gown.
My friends and I bought some chocolates that were expensive but worth every penny. Needless to say, I’ll be back if my wallet ever recovers.
Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
Between learning to pour the perfect pint of Guinness, embarking on a hilarious journey with new Irish friends and having a spiritual encounter with a particularly delicious burrito, I had a fantastic time exploring Dublin and Galway this week.
When my professor canceled my Thursday class, my roommate and I decided to change our Dublin flights to arrange for a Wednesday night arrival. We took the tube to Heathrow for a quick flight over to Ireland’s capital.
The first night, we explored the Temple Bar area of Dublin — a slice of the city known for its nightlife — that sits just south of the River Liffey. That part of town is comprised of narrow, cobble-stoned streets in their original medieval layout. My roommate and I had a late start and ended up splitting our time between two pubs near each other, one of which had live authentic Irish music.
The third night we were there, we met up with more friends from the BU London program who also decided to visit Ireland this week. We went to one of the same pubs from the night before and then made our way over to one of Dublin’s most popular clubs, which was a blast. We ran into more American friends, coincidentally, and also met some locals in the “queue” to get inside and once we were in.
Much later that night, as we were leaving, we met up with a friend at a nearby late-night Mexican restaurant and had what we described as a “life-changing burrito.” It gave some of our friends the strength to return home to their hostel — they had boldly chosen to bunk in a 16-bed mixed dormitory just north of the river. (We were lucky enough to be able to stay at my roommate’s cousin’s house after just one night in a private hostel room.)
We met new people every night we were out, in places ranging from hole-in-the-wall pubs to the busiest clubs on the street, which was awesome. My new Irish friends, who had known each other forever, took my roommate and I to their favorite spots around town on Saturday night. Against the Grain— a “gastropub” that is known for its varied selection of craft beers — was really fun and was absolutely packed with locals enjoying pints and each other’s company. The Garage Bar, a club in Temple Bar and our next stop after Against the Grain, had a floor covered in sawdust, played mostly punk music and drew a totally different crowd but was just as fun.
Galway, a relatively short bus ride away, was a fun day trip as well, even though it poured rain the entire day. We had the opportunity to see Ireland’s gorgeous countryside as well which was nice in comparison to the urban landscape of Dublin.
The last touristy thing we did was tour the Guinness factory, a must for any American in Dublin. We are now certified Guinness pourers and as such retain the right to judge any bartender who doesn’t follow Guinness’ recommended instructions.
All in all, it was an amazing four days and I would highly recommend both Dublin and Galway to anyone visiting Ireland. You’ll never run out of things to do or people to meet.
Margaret Waterman, Staff Writer
A week into my semester abroad, I still feel like it’s not really real yet.
I’ve been to Buckingham Palace, Kensington Palace, Big Ben, Parliament, pubs (so many pubs) and clubs. I took a boat cruise down the Thames and even visited “Platform Nine and ¾.” Everything is gorgeous and so old and historical. It has been so fun sightseeing; we’re off to the Tower of London today. Still, though, it feels like I’m on vacation with a bunch of friends — except, on a budget.
One of the hardest things to adjust to — besides learning to look the “wrong” way when crossing the street — has been living completely on my own. Last semester, I had an apartment, but I was always at The Daily Free Press or my restaurant job and rarely had time to cook real meals for myself. Here, though, it’s been all home-cooked, all the time. We really can’t afford anything else with the exchange rate (which sits at almost two dollars for every one pound) and with our estimated travel budget. So, it’s been chicken and veggies pretty much every night for dinner.
My roommate and I have pooled our spending and split everything from trips to the grocery store, to cooking and dishes. It’s been a great system but definitely has been a big adjustment, along with sharing a kitchen with 14 other girls, all of whom live in my flat.
Before I got here, I decided one of my main goals would be to travel. I’ve been looking forward to seeing all parts of Europe since I can remember and realize this is the perfect opportunity. We’re going to Dublin next weekend, where luckily enough I have a friend there we can stay with for free. We’ve got a bunch more trips planned, too — all around the U.K., Ireland and the Netherlands, for now, with our bigger trips still up in the air.
I think what has struck me most about London is how massive and how international it is as a city. Every place we’ve been, we’ve met people from all over the globe. Other Americans, a ton of French people, Lithuanians and — my personal favorite — two businessmen from Copenhagen we met on a pub-crawl. It’s been much harder to meet Brits than I figured it would be, but I think that’s because of the neighborhood we live in (South Kensington). It’s very expensive and not home to too many locals. I’ve set another goal for myself this week to meet more people from in and around London. There are a bunch of local universities around that we might go check out.
All and all, it’s been an amazing first week and I couldn’t be happier with my choice to study abroad in London. As far as classes go, I’m taking a British media and culture class and a class focused on foreign corresponding. I can’t wait for those to begin next week!
By Lauren Dezenski, Staff Writer
Paris, the first leg of our most recent and last trip abroad, was one for the books. Rima and I spent five days in the City of Light (by far our longest stay anywhere other than London) and did our best to transform into the French ladies that lie within.
Pro tip: for you kids studying abroad in an EU country, you can get free admission into basically every museum in Paris, along with some hefty student discounts pretty much everywhere else. This turned out to be particularly helpful when we had 45 minutes before the Louvre closed–you feel so much less guilt when you just go to take a couple selfies with Mona Lisa and then spend most of your time taking pictures with the pyramid outside. Not that I’m speaking from personal experience or anything…
Speaking of spending time outside of the Louvre, this goes out to all the illegal street vendors who harassed us there and at the Eiffel Tour. Rima figured out how to say “what you’re doing is illegal” in French, which then just made them awkwardly mock her.
I did the best I could behind my significant language barrier and proved to be no help when Rima was called Lady Gaga not once but twice by two different people. I think her leopard print coat definitely had something to do with it. Très, très bon.
I still can’t decide which night was better: our last night in Paris or that one night in Geneva.
The last night in Paris, we met up with some friends on the BU program who were also in Paris and ended up in this tiny fondue place in Montmartre that serves wine in baby bottles.
It sounds weirder than it actually was, though that was certainly helped by the hour spent beforehand at the neighboring bar that had glasses of wine for €3.
There were also issues with some sort of reservation, but Rima was the French knight in knitted leopard print, arguing with the restaurant owner. So, we not only got seated, but got free drinks and enough charcuterie to make your head spin. I somehow managed to spill wine on myself despite the baby bottle situation (I did take off the top because it was still weird), but the drinks, company, and cheese were top-notch.
Then there was our one night in Geneva. We stayed with my aunt who lives there and who took us to this big Christmas party that was being held in some swanky hotel. Apparently last year’s fête had been a blast, so we put our best dresses on and cabbed it over. The performer for this year’s party was a Lady Gaga impersonator, but it was awkward because she actually just looked like my friend Emily wearing a kimono, sunglasses and red lipstick. Go figure.
The people watching was also top-notch. There’s a sizable ex-pat population in Geneva, many of whom are from Eastern Europe and really go all-out with their feathers, sequins, skin-tight dresses and gold lamé. Good stuff.
So folks, this is the end. There’s still five days left of my abroad experience, but most of it will be spent packing, “studying” and crying into the nearest pint of cider.
It’s hard to explain what exactly I’ll be crying about. Sure, London is awesome, but it’s been far from my favorite city that I’ve visited this semester. The first half of the abroad program sucked, for the record, and it took a long time to get over my initial culture shock and subsequent FOMO.
I think the thing I’ll miss most about my abroad experience will be the opportunity to travel. I’ve been fortunate enough to visit eight different countries (not counting layovers) and have some truly incredible experiences. Though I have to say I never did get to ride on the back of a Parisian boy’s motorcycle through the streets of Paris a la Lauren Conrad on “The Hills.”
By Lauren Dezenski, Staff Writer
I’d just like to give a shout out to the guy in the seat behind me snoring like his life depends on it. His olfactorial noises are truly a delight.
Other delights I’ve experienced this weekend: the beautiful city of Prague. My friend Rima and I went for roughly 36 hours because a baby’s gotta do what a baby’s gotta do and these babies had a small amount of time to see Prague but gosh darn it we were going to see it. All of this was shocking to the especially chatty man at the Swiss Air Heathrow check-in desk. “What do you mean you’re only going for a day?”
Continuing with the things that made this weekend delightful: not flying Ryanair. Though I did read somewhere that now Ryanair is allowing two pieces of carry-on luggage which is amazing.
The flight attendant also just spoke to me in German which is a wonderful feeling because this usually means I don’t look like an American. Personal victories!
When our Swiss Air flight landed in Prague, the lady sitting behind me started clapping like they do on Ryanair flights but there was nothing novel about her clapping since I wasn’t expecting to die on this flight like I have every time I’ve flown Ryanair.
Anyway, Prague was exceptional. In a weird way, it was everything I expected to see somewhere like Rome–beautiful cobblestone streets, colorful and ornate buildings, all chock full of historical significance. Prague was all of that with only a fraction of the touristy nonsense that you’d get in Rome. Of course there’s vendors all over the place selling the same 15 prints of watercolor paintings, but you’re not nearly as worried about pickpockets.
We decided to visit Prague this weekend to see the famous Christmas markets and they did not disappoint. We knew of two markets but only found one, which was fine because after a while markets can all blend together. The market was in the same square as the astronomical clock that happens to be freakishly old.
No one told us that the clock was located at essentially eye-level, so we were wandering around the perimeter of the square, looking up at all the buildings and this big clock tower, thinking that we misread the map or something. That was also partially influenced by the large quantity of hot wine and mead we consumed at the market, though we did our best to off-set it with langos, fresh potato chips, sausage, and lots of pastries.
One thing we never did figure out was where Prague Castle is located. Apparently our hotel was right at the steps of the castle, but we just never found it. We don’t really know how that happened. But it was still awesome.
Additional shout out to Europe’s apparent obsession with funiculars. Prague is now the third city I’ve visited this semester to have one of those rail cars that slide up and down a steep hill with what I imagine to be an epic lever and pulley system. I’ve taken to calling them “up machines.”
The Prague up machine didn’t disappoint and was our last stop before heading to the airport. This one took us up to this 60 meters tall replica of the Eiffel Tower. No joke. It’s hilarious. It’s visible from all over the city and the views from the top are absolutely breathtaking. I highly recommend it.
I suppose the replica Eiffel Tower visit is the best way to prepare Rima and I for our next trip. We’ve got 36 hours in London before our next destination: Paris.
By Lauren Dezenski, Staff Writer
I’ll be home in less than a month.
Just as this city has started to really get in under my skin in the best ways, it’s going to be over. It’s made even worse by the realization that I’ve only got one weekend left in London.
I suppose it’s for the best that I’m falling in love with the city as I prepare to leave it.
This all just feels like I’ve had two pints of cider at the pub and upon standing I realize I’m a little more drunk than anticipated…but not too far gone for another pint.
One of my favorite buildings in all of London is St. Paul’s Cathedral. Look back on most of my Instagrams of any sort of London skyline, if it’s not featuring Big Ben or the London Eye (or some combination of me trying to break into a palace or join the Royal Family). St. Paul’s Cathedral is there, sometimes in the foreground, sometimes in the background, sometimes featured in a glass of wine.
I’ve never actually been inside of St.Paul’s, mind you. It’s on my (dwindling) list of places to go, and my friend convinced me to wait to go until next weekend. Ending my London tourist-ings on a high note, right?
It’s hard to explain my infatuation with this building. William and Kate weren’t even married there (though William’s mother and father were). In a city filled to the brim with old buildings, it’s one of the most noteworthy, sure, but there’s just something about the way it rises above most of the other buildings in that majestic way tall things are tall. It’s a crude description but bear with me.
Whether I’m 50 feet or 5,000 meters away, something about that white dome just catches my eye and holds my attention. A friend and I walked around the cathedral on Saturday evening and I couldn’t help but just stare skyward at the beautifully carved exterior, marveling.
Something about St. Paul’s makes me feel centered. I’m by no means a religious person, but the curve of the dome and the beauty that was wrought by Christopher Wren just makes things feel right.
I feel small, but not in a bad way. You get close to the building and look up, until you remember to look where you’re going because another tourist almost bumped into you. You remember your feet are still on the ground and you’ve got another place to go.
Maybe it’s strange to have a semi-religious experience thanks to a building’s exterior architecture and maybe I’m just mostly typing nonsense, but I think it all goes hand in hand with my time in London.
No matter what, I’ll always look toward London. It’ll have a place in my heart, for better or for worse, and now I’ll understand a little better what this city actually is.
Just like getting close to the cathedral, I’ve felt small in London. I’ve felt really small. Never before have I felt so outside my comfort zone in so many situations—but it’s also a beautiful reminder of what life brings.
In no way shape or form should I remain in my comfort zone at all times, and I think I best grow when put outside of my native environment.
I think because of all of this, it’s given me a greater understanding of myself. Sure I’ve bumped into a number of tourists (both physically and allegorically), but it’s all made me realize what’s going on around me—and just how awesome it’s been to be here.