It’s funny what you find while packing… I found my journal from my first (and only) experience abroad. I was 18. It was the summer of 2005. I liked emoticons. Join me on my journey! I promise to stay true to my written word, for better or worse!
~Sunday, July 10, 2005~
10:00 PM (London time)
Woke up nice and early to leave on the tour bus at 8:05 AM. Unfortunately, Uncle Brad discovered that his cell phone and insurance card were stolen, which did not lead to a happy Uncle Brad, but he actually found them just a few minutes ago.
The Evan & Evans tour was fun—we had a funny Scottish tour guide named Celia, full of British humor; she also spoke Japanese which was a funny contrast. There were three Taiwanese people who sat in front of us, and a man from Canada and his two female cousins studying English in London. There were all really cute. There was a very unhappy couple behind us, who complained about everything and would periodically moan as if dying from some injury. :P!
We went to Stonehenge first, about an hour and a half away. The Circle was pretty amazing, but the sun (finally!) and the crowds didn’t really promote the mystery or atmosphere Stonehenge is supposed to inspire.
The tour bus drove to Bath next, about an hour away. We had an audio tour of the Roman baths, but the crowds were rather claustrophobic, and we had limited time while the audio tour lasted more than an hour. So the place was interesting, the experience a little overwhelming. We stopped at The Pump Room and each had a glass of the hot spring water. It tasted like sea water at first—salty but in a subtle way—but with a metallic aftertaste, like a bad public drinking fountain.
Next we went on a walking tour with Celia and one other woman from Brazil. That was my favorite part—lots of nice scenes (Jane Austen’s house, the street that was used in the filming of Vanity Fair) and knowledge we wouldn’t have known from just wandering around. We bought some pasties for later (a traditional: with beef, potatoes, and sweets within a bread pocket; and an almond and chocolate croissant for me) and ice cream (sooo yummy—subtly vanilla with handmade waffle cone) before leaving at 4 PM. About three hours back to London—I read and slept some, which was nice after so much sun and walking.
We stopped at Hyde Park, and found a shady spot on a lawn to eat the pasties and fruit with water. Then we walked around some more and found another spot under a tree to read. It was all very lovely—it doesn’t get dark til 10 PM here, just like Paris.
So we walked home about 9 PM. I’m going to write my postcards and get to sleep—we’ve been watching the news and drank tea and it’s almost 11 PM now.
So Good night again! Tomorrow’s our last day…
P.S. A note on the fashion of London… it’s definitely more punk/thrift here, and not so put-together as Paris. Plus, the strangest hairstyles… and every girl seems to emulate Kelly Osbourne.