awiechs-blog

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I’ve been home for over a week now and can finally say that I’m fully adjusted back to Minnesota time. My last few weeks abroad were like a whirlwind. I managed to fit in a trip to Edinburgh and Paris. Two of my high school friends came to visit for a week and half. I took a day trip to Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and Oxford. I thoroughly enjoyed a visit to Leavesden Studios, where the Harry Potter movies were filmed. I drank more coffee and visited more museums than I thought possible. I sang my heart out at multiple carol services and was amazed by the choir boys at St. Paul’s Cathedral. I enjoyed two rounds of a proper British afternoon tea. And then… I said goodbye. 

On my last afternoon, as I stood just outside the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, I couldn’t help but think how extraordinarily blessed I’ve been through this trip. I met delightful and interesting people; I found a wonderful church home; I made memories and friendships that I’ll hold onto the rest of my life; and I even learned a thing or two. My adventures changed me in a million ways, most of which I won’t even realize. I’m happy to be back with my family and to not be paying for things in Pounds Sterling. But mostly, I’m happy that traveling leaves you speechless and then turns you into a storyteller.

Until my next story, cheers!

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After a day full of wandering, I found myself with a friend walking along the Thames. We stumbled across the Southbank Book Market and it quickly became one of my favorite finds in the city. It is tucked under the Waterloo Bridge and is made up of table after table full of books by every author you can think of. With the knowledge that there will be a weight limit on my luggage for my flight home, I was responsible enough to limit myself to only one book, at least for today. I came home with a first edition of W. Somerset Maugham’s Mrs Craddock. Hopefully, it will be a nice distraction from the essays I have left to write.

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It’s no Valleyfair...

But Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland was marvelous! I was able to go with a few friends from church and it was so wonderful. I honestly felt like a kid in a candy store, which is more or less exactly what I was. We had freshly made donuts to start the evening and wrapped up the night with chocolate covered churros. We took a look at each of the games, but they didn’t seem quite as winnable as I would have liked. Their prizes might have been slightly nicer than those of my beloved Valleyfair, but I couldn’t help but notice that my game operators are of much higher quality.

We went on one ride-it was in the middle tier of rides. Roller coasters cost £9 a ticket, so we went for the more moderately priced “Airwolf” at £5. I still could not believe that I was spending that much money on a ride, but it ended up being so very worth it. There was no one in the queue after us, so the operators gave us at least twice the normal length of time on the ride. It was the type of ride where you spin around a lot and spend just as much time upside down as you do right side up. It was so ridiculously fun! I’d go so far as to say that it’s my new favorite ride, but it certainly isn’t one to settle your stomach.

My favorite part of all of this was that I had no idea where anything was. I love Valleyfair, but I know it like the back of my hand, so a lot of the wonder and magic of it has worn off. Here, we were able to wander around and stumble upon new things. Everything was lit up and colorful and brilliant. You never could guess what sight would be around the corner or what smell would hit you next. I adored it.

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Our Attempt at Celebrating an American Thanksgiving:

Thanksgiving without family hardly seems like the real thing, but we made a grand attempt at celebrating anyway. Truth be told, we didn’t manage to find a proper turkey, but chicken sufficed. Other than that, we got our hands on all of the essential components of the traditional Thanksgiving dinner: mashed potatoes, veg, stuffing, sweet potatoes, good bread, mac & cheese, and cranberry sauce. A few friends and I divide up the menu and we each contributed to the spread. 

I was put on dessert duty. I made an apple pie, served à la mode. Honestly, I have never struggled so much with baking, but it turned out alright in the end. I didn’t have a pie pan, so I figured that I could buy one of the foil throw away ones, but of course, there were none to be found. I actually couldn’t even find a proper pie tin. I ended up buying a pre-baked pastry case, because it was my only option. It also made finding a recipe much more difficult. The recipe I had had in mind was for homemade crust and the baking time went accordingly, but having a crust that was already baked threw a wrench in that plan. I couldn’t even find a recipe that was for a ready-made crust, but after some “guess and check” work, it all turned out. I certainly made me miss grocery stores at home and having a well stocked kitchen.

I was able to finish out the night with FaceTiming my family. My parents were hosting Thanksgiving dinner for the Wiechmann clan. The phone got passed around and I was able to talk to a bunch of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I might not have talked to each of them as much as I would have liked, but it certainly made me feel a bit more at home here.

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Time is Ticking

Exactly one month from today, I’ll be waking up at home for the first time in ages. It is crazy to me that I’ve only got a month left on this side of the pond. It’s also slightly intimidating; I still feel I’ve got so much left to do.

I haven’t posted too terribly often about my adventures thus far, but that in no way means I haven’t had any. Rather, it’s just the opposite. I’ve been far too busy to write about everything.

I’m looking forward to a lot of things in the next month. This weekend I’ll be in Edinburgh on a trip organized by my university. We’ll have three days there and more than enough time on the bus. In December, two friends from high school, Sophia and Olivia, are coming to visit. They’ll be in London with me for a week and then the three of us will go to Paris for a few days to wrap up their trip. We’ve got tickets for touring Warner Bros. Studios (where Harry Potter was filmed) and are planning on getting the West End theatre experience. I’ve still got a long list of museums to visit, as well as quite the list of essays that need writing.

Hopefully this last month doesn’t fly by quite as quickly as the first two did, but I’m not betting on it. Until my next adventure, cheers!

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As much as I love the feel of London, and I do: everything from the look of the buildings to the mix of old and new to the blend of people and cultures is interesting and engaging, but Amsterdam, Amsterdam feels like home. Perhaps not my own, at least not yet, but it was so much...warmer than London. The weather wasn’t perfect, it rained a good portion of our time in the city, but the people, the buildings, the canals, all of it was nicer. It was a place where people lived. London is always in transit. No one looks at you, and if they do, they certainly don’t see you. Granted, Amsterdam was also bustling and full of people; to be honest, I was terrified that I would get run over by a bike, but still, it was an approachable busyness. The people were helpful when I asked for directions and kinder than they needed to be. The man we stayed with (through Airbnb) refunded us for the night we lost with our plane cancellation and gave us plenty of advice on what we could and should do while in the city. He knew an absurd amount of history and provided us with an excellent breakfast. The house was tiny and perfect, even if the stairs were frighteningly narrow. There was a porch in the front, a small garden behind, and plenty of tea. What more could I have asked for?

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While in Amsterdam, we had the chance to visit the Van Gogh Museum, which was easily my favorite part of the trip and worth every penny. I have to admit, we nearly missed out on the majority of the museum. The exhibit (which we went to first) was in a building that was very separate from the rest of the museum, connected only by the lobby on the ground floor. Fortunately, I noticed a sign about the permanent collection just as we were about to leave. We very nearly did not see over 700 of van Gogh’s paintings, terrifying, right?

The central exhibit was comparing Vincent van Gogh’s work and life to that of Edvard Munch. Unfortunately, we weren’t supposed to take pictures, but I only found that out after taking these. 

I really enjoyed the exhibit and realized that I liked much more of Munch’s work than I originally thought. I was equally amazed by how many of van Gogh’s works I was unfamiliar with. I have always loved the paintings that he produced in the last years of his life, but it was even more stunning to see how he transitioned as an artist from his early years to the style for which he is now known. The most interesting aspect of exhibit was on these artists’s writing, particularly van Gogh’s. The museum had many of the letters which he had written to his brother Theo and honestly, he wrote as well as he painted. Part of me wants to learn Dutch just so I can read these letters as he wrote them, rather than the translations. Here is one of my favorite quotes:

“But the sight of the starts always makes me dream in as simple a way as the black spots on the map, representing towns and villages, make me dream. Why, I say to myself, should the spots of light in the firmament be less accessible to us than the black spots on the map of France?”

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We did eventually make it to Amsterdam (losing a day from our trip), but by the time that we got off the train from the airport, it was completely dark out. The lack of light in no way took away from the grandeur of the train station (top picture). We wandered around for a bit and had dinner at an Argentinian restaurant. As strange as it seems, the majority of the restaurants in central Amsterdam are either Argentinian or Italian; there wasn’t much to speak of in the way of Dutch food. We closed out the night with some confusion about which ferry we needed to take to get to our accommodation, but we eventually got it sorted. It was the one to IJplein, for future reference.

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You know how London is supposedly plagued by fog? Perhaps it isn’t always, but when you are bound for Amsterdam? Absolutely. After a cancelled flight and about seven hours with this as our view, if I never see Southend Airport again, it will still be too soon. Here’s hoping I’ll have better luck with my next adventure!

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The Wallace Collection

A British woman that I met in a cafe had recommended this gallery to me several weeks ago, but I forgotten it for the most part. When I was out walking, I happened to look up and recognize the name. I am so glad that I wandered inside. It was exquisite room after exquisite room filled with art and historical pieces, mostly French works from the 18th century. The collection is home to multiple Rembrandt’s and several van Dyck’s. This collection and Hertford House (where it is shown) originally belonged to Sir Richard Wallace and was given to the nation following his death. This collection has been open to the public since 1900; entering it is like taking a step back in history.

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One Month In

I can’t believe that I’ve already been here for a month. Part of me is so used to life in London, but the other half feels like I only got off the plane yesterday. I’ve already learned a lot, about myself, about the British, about the rest of Europe as well. My classes are all interesting; albeit challenging. I found a wonderful church and Bible study group. I’ve met interesting people from all over the world. I’ve seen more history, art, and architecture than I can comprehend. 

I’ve loved every moment that I’ve been here, even the ones that haven’t gone quite according to plan. I miss home and the people across the pond, but to be completely honest, I’m already dreading how much I’ll miss this wonderful city. I know I’ve still got two more months, but that seems pitifully short in comparison to how much adventuring I still want to do. I guess that means I’ll just have to come back one day. Until my next adventure, Cheers!

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Can you imagine a better way to start the day?

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Oh what it is and where it is and why it is, no one knows, but to have said: 'I walked on Waterloo Bridge,' 'I rendezvoused at Charing Cross,' 'Piccadilly Circus is my playground,' to say these things, to have lived these things, mohave lived in the great city of London, centre of the world. To one day, lean against the wind walking up Bayswater Road (destination unknown), to see the leaves swirl and dance and spin on the pavement (sight unseeing), to write a casual letter home beginning: 'Last night, in Trafalgar Square...'

Sam Sevlon, The Lonely Londoners

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Writing Place with Patrick

Patrick Hamilton’s Hangover Square certainly has the most impact when you look at it as a whole, but even in two short excerpts covering scarcely three full pages, the reader can see George Harvey Bone’s world in Hanover Square. The first excerpt (pages 34 and 35) calls to mind a rather dismal London, made all the unwelcoming by the artificial Christmas decorations. The reader can practically see the dark spots and discolorations in his wardrobe mirror. The lodging feels derelict and as though it has been far too long since anyone considered putting money into it, just as it has been far too long since George invested in anything aside from alcohol. You follow right along side George as he heads to her apartment. When you head up the stairs, you see the warmth of the light that spills out from the scene of her and Peter, but you can’t help notice that the warmth doesn’t touch George.

In the second excerpt (pages 66 and 67), the objective and borderline irrelevant details that Hamilton provides first seem tedious and unnecessary, but he uses these details as a tool. The reader doesn’t need to know the exact route that George takes, nor the times of the movies that he doesn’t go to, but as you read you find yourself in George’s shoes. The passage gains a new sense of reality for the reader. It isn’t just George that waits for Netta, it is every reader that encounters the text. While Hangover Square might not be a real place, with the inclusion of these minute details, it becomes just as real to each reader as Hanover Square is to every Londoner.

I read these excerpts for my Writing London class, but it seems as though I have yet another book for my list.

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UWestminster and Education in the UK

The education system in the UK is quite a bit different than that of the US. First of all, this isn’t college. College in the UK is between high school and university, usually for 16-18 year olds. You get into uni after that. When you enter university, you should have already selected a course (major), because there is no such thing as gen ed classes. It usually takes three years to graduate. A full time course load for each term (not called a semester) is 52.5 credits to 60 credits. Most modules (classes) are 15 credits, but some are 7.5 and some are 30.

You spend a lot less time in class and a lot more time in the library. It’s reading (a lot) and writing essays for the grades. This week I had to read two novels, each for a different class, three chapters in one book and one chapter in another for my politics class, and excerpts from five different books for my last class, plus a few writing exercises. 

One of my modules has only two assignments for the term and two of my modules only have one essay. These assignments determine my grade for the entire term. There is no such thing as a participation/attendance grade. It’s slightly terrifying, but assuming I don’t procrastinate too much, it should actually be a lot less stressful. Also the grading system is bizarre. Anything over 40% is passing and there are different classes of grades. I’m still not sure what is going on there...

Westminster is massive, particularly compared to Bethany. There are about 20,000 students, including postgraduates and there are multiple campuses that are all at least a twenty minute walk from the nearest one. Classes that are in the same faculty (department, for my American friends) are all on the same campus, for me, it’s the Regent Street Campus. But of course, you aren’t guaranteed housing at your academic campus, so I’m at the Marylebone Campus.

London is a very student-friendly place. You can get student discounts or concession prices just about anywhere. However, generally speaking London is really expensive, so it kind of evens out. Overall, there are a lot of little differences, but in the end, it is still just school.

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I went to the British Museum and I expected that I could spend a full day there. What I hadn’t expected was that I could spend a full day there and only get around to seeing about half of the exhibits and reading less than half of the information in each exhibit that I did manage to see. These pictures don’t even begin to capture how massive this museum is and I can hardly begin to explain how much history resides within these walls. I’ll definitely be revisiting this museum.

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Lady Mary Wortley Montagu was one of the first female travel writers. She was British but had the opportunity to travel abroad because of her husband’s position as an ambassador. We had a chance to read her Turkish Embassy Letters for Studies in Travel Writing. While 300 years separate her adventures and my own, her writing is much more readable and witty than many of her contemporaries, specifically Laurence Sterne. Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy was our second read for Travel Writing. Sterne spends half of the book ignoring traditional literary conventions and the other half parodying them. It’s an eccentric and challenging novel, not to mention, the book ends mid-sentence. Also, it’s old enough that I found a copy at the British Museum, as a part of an exhibit...