Awesome Awesomeness

The first three days of my course done, I feel I can aptly title this blog entry as such. There are 22 of us teachers--a collection that spans the States and disciplines. Some are acting teachers at performing arts high schools, some are private school English teachers with some Drama classes mixed in, others are middle school teachers running drama and English, and then there are some of us who are more the English teacher dabbling in performance. It is at once an eclectic and homogenous mix. I've been privileged to partake in and witness world-class education over the past three days. This opportunity is a blessing I hope will truly make me a better teacher. The classes are more like workshops—some are interactive, some are more sit-and-share oriented, but all are incredible. Today we spent the day on a Shakespeare scavenger hunt of sorts.

We were given eight locations around London that had some sort of physical representation of Shakespeare. After we were broken into smaller groups, we were assigned one of these eight memorials and tasked with defending it as the best representation of the Bard. Ours was the statue housed in this small, eccentric London museum—the Soane. This Shakespeare was a bust, perched far aloft. The bust is in the Classical style—no pupils or irises, merely whites. Shakespeare looks rather hefty, and his rounded face is covered with awkward facial hair. Drunk on success and having finally achieved the societal statue he so desired, he sits there—looking down on us mere mortals, his cheeks puffed out almost as much as his puffed sleeves. I lovingly refer to him as the Elvis-Shakespeare. It was utter silliness.

Back at The Globe, we didn't ever determine whose was best because—let's face it—Shakespeare's best memorial is his words.

One of our stops was the British Library. Oh goodness, this was just about my favorite thing I've seen so far. Today, I looked upon:

1. An actual 10^th century manuscript of Beowulf and pages from Seamus Heaney's 1999 Whitbread winning translation.

2. One of Shakespeare's First Folios, turned to the page where this is at the top: “Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kiss I die.” (Name the play!)

3. Jane Austen's Volume the Third and her writing desk . Seeing her handwriting actually teared me up. Don't judge.

4. Bronte's Jane Eyre, Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway with the heading The Hours...

5. Handel's Messiah, Mozart, Beethoven's tuning fork and 9^th symphony, and Medelssohm's Wedding March.

6. Henry VIII's prayer roll: This is a long, illustrated tapestry of Christ's life. (I think Henry should've spent more time with this...)

7. The oldest New Testament in the world and

8. Alice, Alice, Alice. The original in C.S. Lewis' hand. I got Taylor's special London present in the BL's gift shop...she's my little Jabberwocky, my silly nonsense girl and so she gets her special present from here.

That's all for today. I really feel settled in and comfortable now. At the end of the day, I do want to lock myself in the room where it is only just me. The crowds are very overwhelming. I have been called a city-girl by some of Jeremy's family from New Mexico, but I am here to tell you that growing up in the American suburbs does not a city girl make.

That's all for now.

This is the blog that never ends...

I'm going to try to bust out my first three days in London in one blog. I think the Top Ten format (Letterman style) is appropriate.

10. People you meet on planes: On my flight from Denver to Houston, I sat next to a lovely young lady by the name of Julia. We struck up a conversation after I remarked on her gold-leafed copy of The Complete Works of Jane Austen. Convinced I'd be having a conversation with another nerd of my breed, imagine my surprise when she begins to explain to me that she is a bio-archaeologist. Naturally I did the 'huh?' look, but fortunately stopped myself before asking if she'd dug up any good Stegosauruses lately. Julia explained that her field is a cross-breed of anthropology, archeology, and history. She was on her way to Houston, then to Panama City, and then to Peru where she'd ride a bus for a couple days before getting to the 'dig site' where they are excavating burial ruins of ancient Peruvians. Yeah...going to The Globe didn't really sound as cool after meeting Julia, but she very kindly took interest and asked me loads of questions. The Jane Austen? “I like a lot of different things.” I'd say so.

9. Parting is such sweet sorrow: The kids had meltdowns the day before I left. No one cried at the airport—unless you count me hugging Jeremy longer than necessary to hide my tears. Conflicts got band-aids. Connie saw me off at DIA (I just LOVE that woman). Hurricane Alex was only a few weak rain showers over the Houston airport.

8. Climb Ev'ry...Staircase?: Years back when my parents went to Europe for the first time, they commented that Europe seemed to be little more than churches and castles. After Germany in 2006, I was inclined to agree. After St. Paul's, I also feel inclined to add that not all churches are created equal. Fourth largest in all of Europe, St. Paul's is a behemoth—the blue dome indelibly etched into the skyline, as important a landmark as Big Ben or the Tower Bridge. After a nightmarish trip on the tube (thanks to my poor choice in luggage), I was overwhelmed (not to mention jet-lagged as hell) by the time I arrived at the Bankside House. Unable to check-in until six in the p.m., I decided there was no better way to spend my time than hiking the 267 steps to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral. I stepped in, shelled out my 15 pounds, and played Rick Steves' audio tour on my iPod. If you can picture Princess Di's wedding (her train draped behind her on the black and white checkered flooring of the cathedral), then you know where I was. I walked in her footsteps (except for the whole bulimia and bad marriage bits). The church is all Christopher Wren until you get toward the back, where the Victorian Age threw up on it. Back there it's like Ethan Allan meets doilies. As I sat near the altar, the priest (minister?) came to the microphone and called everyone to remember that St. Paul's is first and foremost a house of prayer. He then led everyone in the Our Father. I rather liked that.

7. Fish 'n a pint: Both are better in Colorado. My fish had bones. Me no likey. My beer was tasteless. Me no likey. Ah well.

6. Midsummer, early summer: The whole reason I flew in early was to see A Midsummer Night's Dream on the Globe stage before it left for the season. I want to reserve my opinion, because I really want to talk to my mentor teacher before revealing my thoughts. So I'll say this: Worth flying in early, but for reasons entirely unrelated to the play.

5. The weather: It is DIVINE. Warm at the right moment. Breezy when you need it. Most buildings are stuffy, but there is more AC and ice than on continental Europe.

4. Dresses: I felt annoying when I packed a bunch of dresses, until I realized how well I'll fit in here. I suspect London is much like any large city—the population is rather cosmopolitan. Except for one really unfortunate pair of hounds-tooth patterned overalls that gave its owner a really bad case of camel-toe in St. James' Park, most people look rather hip. Gladiator sandals—not of the Payless variety—abound, as do really edgy haircuts that the individual can actually pull off.

   3. My Buddy and Me: Brian Kurz is the other ESU candidate from Colorado here in London. He is super funny and laid back. He is married, with a baby on the way, and he is adorably in love with his wife. It is so nice to be around someone else who misses their spouse like I do. We are sharing an Internet subscription so we can talk to our loved ones. It's nice to have a buddy here.

2. Sh*t I've seen: Picasso, Van Eyck, Monet, and Van Gogh in person. A pride parade in Trafalgar Square. The Crypt at St.-Martin's-in-the-Field (and I have the brass rubbing to prove it). The Tudor Gallery. The Thames, Tower Bridge, Big Ben, London Eye, Halls of Parliament, and Chipotle. It's all been brilliant.

1. Of course...The Globe: I dropped off my bags. Walked the road away from Bankside House, turned where it said 'New Globe Walk.' Avoided nearly being killed by a car driving the wrong way (they all seem to do that here). Stepped out into the morning sunshine of a London day and saw what I'd only seen in pictures. The burnt-blue of the cathedral dome scraping the low-lying clouds, the white Millennium bridge already impossibly filled with people...walking away, walking toward. And then to my left, why I was here. And I have no shame in being a bit dramatic here: I cried.

   Just a little, and behind sunglasses. I didn't want to push my welcome too far.

And so I'm here. And it's lovely. Going solo was totally overwhelming to me the first couple of days, but I am stronger for the experience. My aunt told me, weeks before I departed, it was good for my children to see me outside my comfort zone. I thought, “This isn't going to be outside my comfort zone...it's frigging London! They speak English there!” I was wrong, she was right. Now that I'm settled in, it seems like nothing—flying thousands of miles, navigating the tube, entertaining myself in a huge city for eight hours before being able to rest my weary head. But it is something, isn't it?

Pack it up, Pack it in...Let me begin...

Oy, packing for three weeks abroad is stressful...but I am done minus the makeup and random crap I'll throw in tomorrow morning. I took my aunt's advice and took out about half of what I'd intended to take.

I have in one large suitcase, one carry-on, and a Tamrac photographer's backpack...
9 dresses (casual)
7 pairs of jeans
2 pairs shorts (hate shorts, but love dresses...)
8 shirts
3 pairs PJs
4 pairs of shoes (I am proud of this)
3 cardigan/sweater type things
2 towels and 3 washcloths (the place I'm staying recommended this :o/)
Sundry undergarments and beauty products
Camera, batteries, four lenses
iPod, Blackberry and assorted chargers
Laptop and webcam (for Skype)
Ambien
One copy each of Macbeth, Comedy of Errors, Henry VIII, Henry IV (both parts), and Little Bee
One umbrella and
A terrible case of nerves.

I have never travelled alone.
I have never been away from my children or husband for this long.
I have never navigated a major transit system (I don't think Denver's RTD and Light Rail count).
I have never performed Shakespeare.
I have never seen Big Ben, St. James, or the London Eye.
I have never sat in St. James park and listened to the locals talk as they stroll.
I have never been to a place where I am the one with the accent.
I have never stared down the famous portraits of Anne Boleyn, William Shakespeare, or Thomas Cromwell.
I have never seen the original manuscript of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland.
I have never stood in the Globe Theatre, partaking in a once in a lifetime opportunity.

But I will.

In which I have my first travel disappointment and address the spelling of the Bard's name...

As I planned for London, I read a fabulous book called The Six Wives of Henry the VIII by Alison Weir. In learning about homeboy's eight wives, I also learned about a Tudor palace: Hampton Court. Excited to visit some of Henry's haunts, I did the Google. In addition to visiting the palace, I was going to have the opportunity to see the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show where "Shakespeare's comedies will feature in a series of gardens...while the rose marquee will take on a Midsummer Night's Dream theme." I planned to visit during the magical hour of light (the hour surrounding sunset) and take pictures to satiate my growing addictions to both photography and Tudor England.

In a fit of excitement, I bought the tickets early and had them shipped to me. Just a week ago, I received my course schedule for the program in which I am participating. Alas...the very night I'd planned my excursion de fleur I have to be a groundling at The Globe for a performance of Henry IV, Part I. (I know, I know...terrible alternative.) I called over to the UK hoping and praying for a transferable ticket but, alas, it was not to be. (Side note: It is really so much more pleasant to be told 'no' in the lilting, lovely accent of a British woman.) I shall have to shell out another $22 if I want to see Puck in the garden. The Hampton Court Palace ticket was a separate purchase, and one that (thankfully) I can use any time within seven days of the date on the ticket.

Now, as to the spelling of Mr. Shakespear, um...Shakespeare...um Shakspear? I know the spelling in the opening quote to my blog is the not the more commonly accepted 'Shakespeare.' I could explain, but instead I will just share an excerpt from Bill Bryson's Shakespeare (a fabulous read for anyone, not just Bard aficionados):
More than eighty spellings of Shakespeare's name have been recorded, from Shappere to Shaxberd. (It is perhaps worth noting that the spelling we all use is not the one endorsed by the Oxford English Dictionary, which prefers Shakspere.)

So there it is...and off I go.

Planning

This blog is for me to catalog my adventures in the UK. I am really doing this for myself, first, so that I can fully document what I experience. You are welcome to follow along. Or not.

This will be my first solo vacation, the longest I've ever been away from my hubby or kids, and my first real opportunity to practice my British accent on the locals and finally see how bad my ''Allo gub'nor' really is. My adventures will last from the 1st of July to the 24th, unless of course I am delayed or detained in any way by the still puffing Eyjafjallajokull. (What I want to know is what the Icelanders were puffing when they named that thing.)

We all know what they say about the 'best laid plans.' I am willing to accept that some of my adventures may go awry, but I hope most will not. A few of my schemes I have tucked into a little Velcro pouch--tickets purchased (or requested) ahead of time. Some read as follows:

"Invitation to Witness the Ceremony of the Keys. Time: 21:30 hrs precisely. Historic Royal Palaces: TOWER OF LONDON."
"Historic Royal Palaces: Hampton Court Palace" and the accompanying "HAMPTON COURT PALACE FLOWER SHOW: East Molesy, Surrey."
"SHAKESPEARE'S GLOBE: 21 New Globe Walk, London. A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM."

Now to that terrifying tube map...