Today was my first full day in London, and it was, at the risk of sounding like a wannabe, jolly feckin’ good. But bear with me; I’m going to recap the first few days of the trip before moving on to London:
I started out on Dec. 29th, meeting Christina (who is literally my lifelong friend, in the very off-chance you’ve never heard me talk about her) at a very crowded Newark airport. We flew overnight to Frankfurt and headed to Amsterdam from there, where Ing and Sas met us at the airport. With our typical innuendo-laced brand of humor, the four of us made our way to Stadskanaal, where Ing and Sas live. Julia/Hulio, who came with Sas over the summer to the States, met us there. Over the next four days, we visited Prisca’s (Ing’s and Sas’s mom) soap and lotion shop, ate oliebollen and appelflappen (two traditional Dutch New Years treats), enjoyed a party with the Karsches and their extended family, watched some glorious fireworks in the streets—and, yes, we also partook of some legal (and, I might add, kind of strong) Dutch goodies. (For a more complete and informative summary of the first few days in Holland, check out Christina’s blog here) Being with four of my best friends was the absolute best way to start the trip, although it made my departure Sunday night a little rough. The girls took me to the train station in Assen, where Hulio met me, and we made our way to her hometown of Haarlem, a suburb of Amsterdam. I certainly want to spend more time in Haarlem when I can, because it’s really beautiful (as is much of Holland, my adopted homeland.) Hulio’s parents are really sweet people, and we discussed topics ranging like the American vs. Dutch education system, Four Lokos, and the fact that “that’s what s/he said” jokes just don’t work in Dutch. They kindly let me crash at their place, and Hulio’s dad took us to Schiphol in the morning so I could catch my flight to London and so Hul could head back to Groningen.
The flight to London and my arrival at Heathrow were uneventful. As I was heading to find the Arcadia representative who was supposed to be waiting for us (but wasn’t), I met Lizzie, a Mount Holyoke student who grew up in Brooklyn and whose mom, it turns out, grew up in Mansfield, Ohio. We rode the Heathrow express to Paddington station and grabbed a cab from there to the hotel. (Fun fact: Cabdrivers in London have to study for 2-3 years and must pass a test called “the Knowledge” in order to become a licensed cab driver—they literally know every street in the city and take great pride in their jobs.)
We began orientation Monday afternoon, and there I met several girls who I went to a pub with for dinner. (First fish and chip bowl so far-- whaddup London!)
Tuesday, after several hours of orientation/introduction with the Arcadia staff, we embarked on a scavenger hunt throughout the city. What was initially a group of three girls morphed to six, then 10 when we ran into four Arcadia students we kind of knew at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Our posse of ten (several kids from New York City and others from Jersey, L.A, Boston, Virginia, and Bulgaria) roamed the city looking for the scavenger hunt clues, which led us from St. Paul’s to Covent Garden, Charing Cross/Trafalgar Square, Westminster/Parliament and finally ended up in South Kensington, where we met the rest of the Arcadia group for dinner at Imperial College of London. It was a fantastic way to get to know the other kids, many of whom are going to other schools throughout the city. (I swore not to hang out solely with Americans, but since we’re all eager to meet Brits, I think it’ll become more of a British friend-hunting network.)
When we got back from Kensington (again, with our crew of 10) we headed to a pub, which unfortunately was swarming with Americans, but was also serving some Brits thanks to a ManU game on TV. After a pint and some pool with the scavenger hunt people, and a renewed faith that not all Brits have bad teeth (A message to Tom, the guy in the white V-neck sweater: if you’re reading this, please know that your accent allows you to charm the pants off any American woman who crosses your path) I headed back to the hotel.
Sorry for such a long post—hope you could stand to read it through. I move into my Westminster housing on Friday, so I’ll post about the move later in the week.
Until then, cheers!
I started out on Dec. 29th, meeting Christina (who is literally my lifelong friend, in the very off-chance you’ve never heard me talk about her) at a very crowded Newark airport. We flew overnight to Frankfurt and headed to Amsterdam from there, where Ing and Sas met us at the airport. With our typical innuendo-laced brand of humor, the four of us made our way to Stadskanaal, where Ing and Sas live. Julia/Hulio, who came with Sas over the summer to the States, met us there. Over the next four days, we visited Prisca’s (Ing’s and Sas’s mom) soap and lotion shop, ate oliebollen and appelflappen (two traditional Dutch New Years treats), enjoyed a party with the Karsches and their extended family, watched some glorious fireworks in the streets—and, yes, we also partook of some legal (and, I might add, kind of strong) Dutch goodies. (For a more complete and informative summary of the first few days in Holland, check out Christina’s blog here) Being with four of my best friends was the absolute best way to start the trip, although it made my departure Sunday night a little rough. The girls took me to the train station in Assen, where Hulio met me, and we made our way to her hometown of Haarlem, a suburb of Amsterdam. I certainly want to spend more time in Haarlem when I can, because it’s really beautiful (as is much of Holland, my adopted homeland.) Hulio’s parents are really sweet people, and we discussed topics ranging like the American vs. Dutch education system, Four Lokos, and the fact that “that’s what s/he said” jokes just don’t work in Dutch. They kindly let me crash at their place, and Hulio’s dad took us to Schiphol in the morning so I could catch my flight to London and so Hul could head back to Groningen.
The flight to London and my arrival at Heathrow were uneventful. As I was heading to find the Arcadia representative who was supposed to be waiting for us (but wasn’t), I met Lizzie, a Mount Holyoke student who grew up in Brooklyn and whose mom, it turns out, grew up in Mansfield, Ohio. We rode the Heathrow express to Paddington station and grabbed a cab from there to the hotel. (Fun fact: Cabdrivers in London have to study for 2-3 years and must pass a test called “the Knowledge” in order to become a licensed cab driver—they literally know every street in the city and take great pride in their jobs.)
We began orientation Monday afternoon, and there I met several girls who I went to a pub with for dinner. (First fish and chip bowl so far-- whaddup London!)
Tuesday, after several hours of orientation/introduction with the Arcadia staff, we embarked on a scavenger hunt throughout the city. What was initially a group of three girls morphed to six, then 10 when we ran into four Arcadia students we kind of knew at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Our posse of ten (several kids from New York City and others from Jersey, L.A, Boston, Virginia, and Bulgaria) roamed the city looking for the scavenger hunt clues, which led us from St. Paul’s to Covent Garden, Charing Cross/Trafalgar Square, Westminster/Parliament and finally ended up in South Kensington, where we met the rest of the Arcadia group for dinner at Imperial College of London. It was a fantastic way to get to know the other kids, many of whom are going to other schools throughout the city. (I swore not to hang out solely with Americans, but since we’re all eager to meet Brits, I think it’ll become more of a British friend-hunting network.)
When we got back from Kensington (again, with our crew of 10) we headed to a pub, which unfortunately was swarming with Americans, but was also serving some Brits thanks to a ManU game on TV. After a pint and some pool with the scavenger hunt people, and a renewed faith that not all Brits have bad teeth (A message to Tom, the guy in the white V-neck sweater: if you’re reading this, please know that your accent allows you to charm the pants off any American woman who crosses your path) I headed back to the hotel.
Sorry for such a long post—hope you could stand to read it through. I move into my Westminster housing on Friday, so I’ll post about the move later in the week.
Until then, cheers!
No comments:
Post a Comment