A Trip through Time

It worked! It turns out the secret to controlling weather is to ask blog readers to cross their fingers for a sunny day; I bet farmers wished they’d discovered that years ago, huh? Normally, I have a few choice words for English weather, but on Sunday, I couldn’t complain. Aside from some showers while I was on the bus, it was as bright a day as can be, and I didn’t even have to worry about frostbite.

The morning began early, with a 7:30 a.m. departure from Sussex, along with the rest of the exchange students. I had a window seat, an ipod and a book to read, so naturally I fell asleep straightaway. Three hours later, I noticed a big bunch of stones on my left cleverly deduced that we were at Stonehenge. I was issued an audio guide and free to wander around. Whoever runs the site didn’t trust me as much as they do archeologists or Wiccans, so I couldn’t get too close, but I was no more than a stone’s throw away. Haha, “stone’s throw away,” get it? (Crickets chirping.)

Moving right along, there are many things in life that photography cannot accurately portray, but Stonehenge is not one of them. It looks exactly like it does on millions of photographs and postcards, although it has more sheep. I acknowledge the great feat that its builders accomplished when they lugged the huge stones from Ireland to southern England thousands of years ago, but although I feel like a bad person as I write this, I’m going to say it anyway: The site and the stones were not as big as I thought they would be. Still, Stonehenge is one of those quintessential English tourist spots that I have to see before I leave, and I was duly impressed by the sense of prehistoric history, so I’m glad to check it off my list.

After that, I was back on the road for another hour. The beautiful English countryside made an interesting contrast to the Anchorman DVD playing inside the bus, but it was sort of nice to have a little cultural taste of home. (Is it really sad that I just called Anchorman a taste of American culture? Don’t answer that.)

Finally, we arrived in Bath, and I felt like I had just stepped (er, been driven) 200 years into the past. (That, or walked into a period piece movie. Either option is acceptable.) The Georgian (Neoclassical) style was everywhere, and it conjured up all those silly, romanticized images I have about the turn of the 19th century. I had Mr. Darcys and Scarlet Pimpernels running through my head all day. I was figuratively transported even further back in time when we toured the Roman baths. For people who didn’t have trucks and cranes and, you know, modern construction equipment, they are really impressive. Despite a quick stop in the gift shop, it took a full two hours to walk through the multiple levels, and I was impressed at how each room’s design took into account every little detail.

After a quick lunch at a little bakery stand, I struck out on my own to explore the town. I only had time for one tourist attraction before the bus left at 5, and is anyone really surprised to hear that I chose the Jane Austen Centre? As expected, I walked right past it on my first (and second) attempt to find it, but I didn’t mind. Instead, I wandered into a part of town I otherwise would not have had the chance to see. I strolled through a (dead) Georgian garden (although I’d bet it’s worth a visit in the spring) and saw the Royal Crescent and the Circus, the fashionable neighborhood for the rich and famous 200 years ago. I looked all over, but alas, there were no open ballrooms to pop into.

After a little bit of backtracking, I found the Jane Austen Centre, and I don’t know how I could have missed it the first time around. A gentleman in full Regency dress was stationed by the entrance, and as he opened the door and tipped his hat to me, he said in a charming British accent, “Good day, madam.” Let the swooning begin. He let me take his photo, and I only wish there had been someone else there with me so I could have taken a picture with him. But all is not lost since I’ve decided we’re getting married in June, and there will be plenty of time for pictures then. Just as soon as I learn his name…

After poking around the gift shop and seeing every Jane Austen-related book in existence (including Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which I suppose is now a sanctioned part of the Jane Austen canon), I bought my ticket and attended a fifteen-minute talk about Jane’s life in Bath. It was slightly depressing (turns out she wasn’t much of a city girl) but interesting nonetheless. I saw the main exhibit after that, which was primarily about life in Bath in the early 1800s, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. After tearfully bidding farewell to my future husband, I wandered back to the city centre for a cup of tea before getting back on the bus to 2010. It was a very full day, but I feel like I didn’t even scrape the surface of Bath, so I hope to go back there someday.

On Tuesday, I had another one of those fun and stereotypical American-abroad conversations. I ran into a classmate at a campus café, and we interrogated each other for an hour about British and American culture, politics, stereotypes, lifestyles, attitudes, and dental hygiene. (Not really. I’m just checking to see if you’re still reading!) He had some surprising things to say. For instance, I knew that Obama was popular all over the world during election season, but from his description of election night in 2008, he might as well have been in America. Lots of students here at Sussex had viewing parties and stayed up until the middle of the night to watch the results come in live. And I thought I went to bed late on election night…

On Wednesday, the painter came by to put the last coat of paint on my window and (hopefully) on my mold problem. As he left, he said “cheerio,” which is the first time I’ve heard a British person actually saw something stereotypically British. It made this entire experience worth it. Incidentally, the lecturer at the Jane Austen Centre claimed that the term originated in Bath in the 18th century when the rich would call for their sedan chairs (“chair ho!” or something like that). I’m not convinced…Anway, as if that wasn’t enough happiness for one day, after dinner, my friends and I watched Beauty and the Beast, and I just might have enjoyed it more this time around than I ever did years ago. I’m pleased to report that I could still sing along to every song. I clearly did not know what I was talking about when I received the VHS for Christmas a very long time ago and cried “but I didn’t want this!” (I’m still sorry, Aunt Patty! I promise I love it now!)

Finally, I had an essay proposal due for my WWI research paper today. Imagine my surprise when I discovered (a few weeks ago, not today. My study habits haven’t gotten THAT bad.) that I don’t turn my work into my tutor, the one who will be marking (grading) it, but to the history school office, which will do something with it and forward it to him in a week. And I have to fill out a cover sheet, and print two copies, and God help me if it’s even a sentence over 500 words…Everything academic here is very standardized, very centralized and very bureaucratic. It seems just a little ridiculous to me, and it’s no wonder British transcripts take so long to get back to American universities.

That’s all for now, folks! Good night!