Pumpkin Carving

I apologize for the lack of updates on the blog, I have been quite busy this last week, but have been writing in my journal and will be posting shortly. I am in Italy this weekend, I will most definatly keep you all updated.

Chaplin and Campfires

Today was the first day of my internship. I woke up quite early to get a start on my journey to Tufnell Park, an area in Northern London where my work experience would take place. I headed out the door and went to Southbury station happy to find that a train was arriving just only 5 minutes from when I arrived. Also at the platform was Themos from Cyprus waiting for the train to go to work. We took the train to Seven Sisters, then I rode it to Euston and transferred to Tufnell Park. I made the journey in record time, especially for the rush hour of commuters. I had about 30 minutes so I got off early at Camden Town and had a look around, and then went to Cineflix, the company that I was to start my internship with.

Cineflix is located on the third floor (or 2nd floor here, because they call the first floor the ground floor, and the next one the 1st floor – kind of confusing.) It is a nice a bright office with hardwood floors and natural cealing light – it has a very modern feel to it, there are no cubicles, just large desks joined in groups. All of the employees work on apple laptops or desktops. I was informed that I would be working on a program with the working title “Stupid Science.” The programme, which is being produced for the National Geographic Society will play in the UK and many other countries around the world, minus the US. The show is in its final scripting stages and shooting will begin in a couple of weeks. I was given a desk with the group and a computer to work on. I sit across from Martin one of the producers, and Ed, the director is at another desk with Alex, the researcher. The show will focus on quirky science that is being done around the world, then explain the scientific properties. The key to the show is the classic British humor and wit – a specific reason that it is not being marketed to the US. The US television audience is a very specific audience, and the dry humor does not appeal to them supposedly (even though I love it.) I helped by researching some famous science experiments, getting the details of how to do the experiment and who did it. The National Geographic Society has two branches for their television production, 1. the commissioning editors – the people who make the decisions about the shows 2. the researchers – a giant department that just checks all of the facts. All of the work on “Stupid Science” has to be checked by the researchers before the script is approved.

It was a very fun day, and I really enjoyed the people that I was able to work with. Martin said that I am here at the perfect time because I will be able to help in development and see the shooting – as well as many aspects of the production.






I left their office at around 6:15 pm and began my journey back to central London. I decided to get off at Oxford Street Station because I wanted to walk into the Apple store to see if they had the new ipod’s that play video just to toy around with, but they were not there yet. I had also read in the paper that tonight was the first night of the London film festival. I headed to Trafalgar Square, where I was greeted with a gigantic movie screen as I emerged from the tube station playing Charlie Chaplin films with a piano accompaniment – it was very impressive. The sight was really beautiful because when you were watching the screen you could see Big Ben in the distance.

I stayed and watched the films for a while, then they began showing short films that are in this year’s competition. There was an incredible claymation piece that focused on depression, a hilarious animated short about a badger that lives in a small hill, where one day a missile control centre is placed inside. It was time to head home, and Stephanie and Erigony were waiting in the kitchen. Lidia and Michaele then came over and we roasted Tesco marshmallows over a lighter. It was quite tedious but delicious nonetheless.

My Big Fat Greek Dinner

The highlight of today was dinner. It was great.

I woke up and saw Despiona out my window, followed by her parents. I yelled hello, and they replied “see you tonight!” I was kind of confused, as we didn’t have any plans, but after asking Michaele – she handed me a small slip of paper that was for me from Despiona that said “My mom is cooking all of my friends a big Greek dinner, you are my friend so be here at 20:30 – I will be waiting for you in my kitchen!”




When the time came, Erigony and I got dressed up and walked to the small newsstand on High street and purchased a 2-litre bottle of coke to bring to the party. We arrived to an empty kitchen that smelled like great food, and a table that was set with a tablecloth and 14 places. People began to arrive, and Themos and Cristobal and I decided to head to the other flats and borrow their tables because there was no way that all 14 of us could fit comfortably around the small table. We planned carefully, because moving tables across the courtyard on campus would not be the smartest idea, as there are strict security guards that walk the premise regularly. We first went to Themos’ flat and grabbed three chairs and a table, and carried it up a flight of stairs to the party room. Next we headed for Teripsy and Michaele’s flat where we grabbed the same. This time, there was a security guard in the courtyard as we inched our way outside carrying the table and chairs – he started walking towards the office with his back towards us and we quickly sneaked across the courtyard to flat 12. We made it inside.



The dinner was incredible. It consisted of Greek Salad (tomatoes, olives, cucumbers and fetta cheese) Tzatziki (yogurt with cucumber and garlic – for dipping bread in) Turopita (Cheese Pie) Pastitsio (pasta with mince meet, cream and cheese.) and Crepes with mushrooms and cheese. We finished up with Tsoureki for dessert – a sweet bread.

All the while we had Greek pop music playing the background, and as soon as her parents were off to bed, the kitched turned into a large dance party put on by the Greeks, singing the words to the songs that were playing. I filmed the entire thing, it is a sight to see. The only dissapointment was that there wasn’t a part in the dinner where everyone screamed “opppa!” like in My Big Fat Greek Wedding – but we were reminded on a couple of occasions that most words can be traced back to a Greek word.

Despiona’s parents were impressed when I thanked them for the dinner in Greek. (Efharisto!)

Kalinihta – (good night!)

Notting HIll 2

Today we decided to head back to Notting Hill. There is a huge antique market on the weekends, and the last time we went was a weekday. Michaele and I met Megan and Damon at Ponders End and we took the train to Liverpool Street, and made our way to Notting Hill Gate. There was a ton of people filling the streets. There were antique vendors selling everything including dollhouse collectables, art prints, jewellery and furniture.

We lost Damon at the tube station while we were waiting for George. Without cell phones here, we have to resort to pre 1998 ethics – if you cant find someone, or if they don’t meet you at the right time, you just leave. So Michaele, Megan and I headed to the market, hoping that we might bump into Damon and George eventually. We walked into a ton of stores, including a really cool Scottish store that was selling tartans and wool blankets. Megan bought a newspaper boy hat and sported it for the remainder of the day.

Notting Hill is a very posh part of London – we decided to look into a real estate agent’s window, and the average price of a flat was about £1000 a week to rent – that’s about $8,000 a month. That didn’t fit our current budget, even though it would be nice to have a flat closer to central London.



The day drew to a close, and the lighting on the white stone buildings was really spectacular, almost a sight from California. We went back into the Travel bookshop and then found the flat where the movie Notting Hill was filmed, it was just basically a plain blue door. As soon as we turned the corner, we recognized the yellow and black striped shirt of the person in front of us, and we were reunited with Damon and George. All 5 of us hopped back onto the tube and got out at Tottenham Court Road and walked to Nando’s where we were to meet Fernanda and her cousin from Portugal, but there was no sight of them upon arrival, so we found a small Italian restaurant called Amalfi’s. We were seated in the basement, which required travelling down a steep set of stairs that was no wider than your body. The restaurant was very nice and gave us necessary rest from all the day’s walking.

On our way home, we walked through London’s China town, which was decorated with beautiful paper lanterns and Chinese architecture. The ride home on the tube was a little interesting. We waited at Piccadilly Circus for the train, and while we were waiting a large croud had formed waiting for the train as well. As soon as the train arrived, people just pushed their way into the small cabin and we were packed shoulder to shoulder. Once the train arrived at the next station, the doors opened up and even more people pushed and crammed their way in, although I don’t know how it was physically possible. I was grabbing onto the yellow support pole, and had someone crushing the front of me and people on every side – there was also a small girl that was below us. Things got really interesting when we would pull up to a station, and someone in the back yelled, “I need to get off.” I almost suggested body surfing – but it was useless to get everyone off at his or her desired point. Luckily our stop was the last one on the Piccadilly line, and we made it home without problems.

We also walked by this pub in downtown London called Admiral Duncan!

Quiz Night

Today was Christobal’s birthday. I headed off to fitness and wellness class at 9:30, and when I came back, Christobal rang my flat, and I put my head out the window shouting “Feliz Cumpleanos!” (Happy birthday in Spanish.) He was disappointed because his brother had sent him a present from Spain, but they delivered it to the wrong flat, and someone had signed for it – after searching almost every flat, he finally found it.

To celebrate his birthday, Michaele and I headed to the ever-popular Tescos supermarket bakery section. They have cakes for everything. There are small cakes for £4.00 that have the major football teams on them for victory parties. There was a Liverpool team cake with the key footballers faces printed on the frosting. There was also a crazy frog cake. Crazy frog, which most of you have not heard of, is a small-animated frog that sings a song that has been deemed the most annoying song in the world. The funny thing is that it went to the top of the charts, beating out Coldplay’s recent single – and it is a popular ring tone choice. Once you’ve heard it, you’ve heard it enough. The cake featured a small candle that would play the crazy frog song when lit. We decided to go for the generic Tesco chocolate cake, and we headed back to the kitchen where we met Stephanie, Themos, Joanna, Teripsi, Despiona and Cristobal. After he had blown out the candles, Punaam, one of Michaele’s flatmates came into the kitchen. We asked her to sing Happy Birthday in Hindi, and she sang a beautiful song as we clapped along.

The next destination was a pub called ‘The Goat.’ The Goat is located on High Street, a 2-minute walk from our dorm. When you walk in, it has the immediate feeling of being someone’s house. There is plad carpet, overstuffed chairs, a fireplace and friendly people. Michaele, Cristobal and I were the only ones to go, and we were the only students in the entire place. The space was relatively empty, and a man came to our table announcing that it was quiz night, and handed us a sheet of paper with 50 numbered blanks. We chose “The Ligers” as our team name – a nod to Napoleon Dynamite (a movie that has yet to hit the shores of England). Looking around the pub I assumed that these people were quiz night regulars, there was a table called “the bookies,” a group of 5 guys, all wearing glasses that eagerly awaited the start of the game, there was also a man with his white Scotty dog that walked around the pub saying hello to everyone with a lick, and some other individual players. There was no stage, just a young Irishman announcing the questions from one side of the bar. The first category was Television and Film, (or Fillum as he would say.) We immediately knew that we were going to be at a disadvantage with questions like: what was the name of the policeman in the movie “Top Cat.”… or Who is the star of the Channel 4 drama “Elizabeth.”

The categories moved on to sports, music and then general knowledge. After a while we noticed another student sitting at the table next to us, and he seemed to be another quiz night regular – quietly saying “yesss!” when he would get an answer right. He started seeing that we were having some troubles – even the Irishman giving the quiz would constantly look over and say, “how are you folks keeping up?” Once we hit the music section, Oliver, the student, would sneak over when it was a real stumper, and tell us the answer. He only did it a couple of times, but it was a huge help.

My favourite question was “Which England player has retired from pro Rugby to ‘spend more time with his family?” To think that there is only one player that has such an excuse is funny in itself. When we looked puzzled, the host said… “c’mon! Its really easy!”

It was time to turn in our papers. Within no time, he had tallied up the scores, and began announcing the results. “In last place… The Liggers?” “The Ligers!” we loudly corrected him. He had a puzzled look on his face, as he had obviously not heard about the mythical Liger (bread for its skills and magic.) There was a small cheer for us among the pub, as we were very happy with our score of 16 out of 50 correct.

After the winners were announced. The owner of the pub came over and congratulated us for participating in the event, and handed us a box that contained a nice pint glass from the pub. The old man was very nice, and really enjoyed talking with us. He learned our names, and said that since we were so far from Home (the US) that if we ever felt lonely or lost, to just come inside the Goat and he would serve us free dinner and tea on their nice patio. It was an incredible night, and we truly felt the hospitality of the Goat.

the kitchen

Today was an incredible day, and most of it was spent in the kitchen.



Our kitchen is located through a door at the front of our hallway when you enter our flat. It is relatively sterile and white and mostly smells of a cream of mushroom soup mishap that occurred in the late 90’s. There are two fridges, one freezer, one cooker, one sink and no microwaves in a 1-kilometer radius. The kitchen is relatively clean compared to many of the other flats in Ted Lewis, and I find myself wiping down the tables and sweeping the floor often, as my summer job as a janitor trained me well.

There are three large windows that swing all the way open to allow fresh air in, and displays quite an incredible view of the surrounding rooftops. If you were to gaze outside my kitchen window, you might immediately jump to the conclusion that you were somewhere in India, as the outline of the Enfield mosque adds to the dramatic skyline – its great being greeted by such a great view in the morning while munching on my new favourite cereal, Crunchy Nut Clusters, a blend of honey nuts and oats with thin rolled chocolate shavings mixed in. It actually apologizes for its goodness on the front of the box saying “sorry for being so ludicrously good!”

I walked into the kitchen this afternoon to find that Erigony, my Greek flatmate, had purchased a large pot of flowers to place on our table, and was busy unpacking fresh peppers and tomatoes that she had just purchased from Tesco. She announced that she was going to cook us a delicious dinner, and she gave me a sneak peak at the dessert.

I invited Michaele and Cristobal over and we practically passed the entire day in the kitchen. For some reason, just tidying it up a little and adding some flowers, the kitchen finally felt like a liveable area, not just a linoleum cage with a rank smell. Erigony carved out the tomatoes and peppers and stuffed rice and mushrooms inside and finally drizzled olive oil and cheese overtop. While she was preparing the meal, I was reading my book ‘The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe,” that I had started at DIA before departing to London. The movie premier for the film by the same title will be taking place at Royal Albert Hall in December and Prince Charles will be in attendance.

Michaele and I had a couple cups of tea, and I had some bred with Nutella spread (another one of my new addictions.. it is hazelnut chocolate spread that you place on toast.) Before we knew it, it was dinnertime and we found ourselves setting the table with Stephanie, my German flatmate. Erigony insisted that we listen to Christmas songs as she ran to her room to grab a Starbucks CD that her mom had sent her from Greece.

Michaele and I realized that we didn’t have anything to drink other than the heavily chlorinated lukewarm London tap water, as we darted across the street to Tesco Supermarket. The supermarket has 4 isles of drinks. 2 isles of hard liquor and beer – a shocking sight to Americans such as ourselves, and 2 isles of various other fruit drinks sold in tall 2 litre bottles. Michale and I decided to be a little adventurous and purchased 2 Tesco’s brand bottles called “Cloudy Lemonade” and “Shanty.” When we got back to the kitchen, we were greeted by a deep laugh from Christobal – when he explained that Shanty was basically beer and lemonade mixed – he was so excited to see it because it was fond of the drink in Spain. I opted for the Cloudy Lemonade – just your regular lemonade, because the Shanty seemed a little shady – it would be like drinking King Sooper’s brand Kroger beer mixed with lemonade… no thanks.



It was time for the dinner, and Erigony did not disappoint. The food was incredible, as we kept raving that it was better than restaurant quality… it was homemade quality. The dinner lasted for around an hour, and our plates were cleared as she began to prepare the dessert.



Before we knew it, we had a toasted waffle topped with vanilla ice cream, drizzled with golden syrup and dusted with cinnamon sitting before us. Golden syrup is a very British ingredient as it has the consistency of normal syrup but has the taste of honey. I’m sure you can guess that the dessert was great as well.

We couldn’t thank Erigony enough for such a wonderful day, and a delicious meal.

Im not a Tiny Toon!

Cassie, Michaele and I woke up and gathered in the courtyard at 9:00 to meet to go to Camden Town – a huge marketplace in northern London. Chris was also supposed to meet us, but after waiting for 5 minutes we threw some pebbles against his window, the blinds rolled up slightly, and his hand appeared holding the number one, signalling… “Just a minute.” After 30 minutes, Chris finally was ready and came down into the courtyard; we’ve decided that next time we will just tell him that we are meeting at 8:30.

We headed to Southbury station to find that it was closed for the weekend, not an uncommon occurrence. London transport likes to do all of its maintenance work on the weekends, and usually on multiple stations, and usually on the ones surrounding our campus so it seems. Our only choice was to hop on a bus and ride it to Wood Green, an underground station that was about 50 minutes away. After a lengthy ride, we arrived and made our way to the crowded market of Camden Town.

Camden town is absolutely crazy. Imagine about 500 different booths, stores and food places in a small area and you will get an idea. Many of them are small tent booths, but some are built into an old bridge that runs through the market, making small catacombs of stores that are tucked away. The food section is incredible as well. You can get African food, Mexican food, Chinese food, Arabian food and Indian food. The food vendors are quite aggressive when it comes to promoting their meals, If they see your eyes glance their food they will yell out, “Hey you! Come have some rice!” It was hard to decide between seafood fried rice or oriental chicken, I went for the chicken and chow mien lunch.

The most unusual clothing store at Camden was called Cyber Dog – a gigantic store that sells clothing that looks like it came straight out of the future. T-shirts with video screens in them, space boots and everything cyber is in this shop. Check out their Web site to see what I’m talking about, its truly out of this world. http://www.cyberdog.net/

It was also really incredible because we kept running into people that we knew. I saw my flatmate Stephanie, we also saw Megan, another CSU student, and Chris saw someone who went to his university in Spain – all in Camden Town, it was all very ironic; I mean, we are in London, not in some small village, kind of mind boggling.

After a full day of going into practically every store, we were ready to head home with the rest of the crowds. Finding our way home was not as difficult as the way there; we made it to Liverpool station and were ready to catch our train back home, but realized that the station was closed. The National Rail was operating a replacement bus service and we were all impressed when a huge coach pulled up inside the beautiful Liverpool station to take us home. We were practically the only ones on the bus, and we reclined the seats all the way back, almost horizontal, and enjoyed a nice ride through the now dark, rainy streets of London.

Michele Chris and I decided to make the most of our all day travel card and grabbed the bus back into London to see the lights. We rode the tube to Charing Cross, a stop that is directly under Trafalgar Square, and a nice walk to the Thames embankment. Thankfully it had stopped raining, and it was beautiful as always walking along the bridge, one side facing St. Paul’s Cathedral and the other facing the London Eye and the House of Parliament and Big Ben. After walking under the London Eye and heading back to Embankment station, we walked up to Leicester Square (pronounced Lester Square) and found a small café to grab something to drink. We had yet to really experience how expensive of a city London is until our short time at the café. To give you an idea, a slice of cake at the café was £5.00, which is equivalent to $10.00! We estimated that the entire cake was worth $120.00 and there were 16 cakes in the display case, making the entire lot worth $1,920 – and this wasn’t Harrods, or anything special, it was just a small café in the heart of London. Chris ordered a latte, which was £4.00 and when it arrived he exclaimed, “I’m not a Tiny Toon!” In his infamous Spanish accent, remarking about the ridiculously small size of the mug. We headed home after a long and memorable day, looking forward to sleeping in late on Sunday morning.

practically perfect

Happy Birthday to my Dad!

This morning I woke up very early to meet Cristobal to go into London to work on his photography assignment. He had an ipod, a CD, a cassette and all of London's great monuments and architecture at his disposal. We reflected the London eye in a cd and big ben on the ipod – it was surreal to just walk around the city as if it was ours, feeling the furthest away from a tourist as possible… well, minus the giant cameras around our neck.

The funniest part of the morning was getting into London. To save money, we buy day travel cards which allow unlimited travel by bus, train and underground all day. To save even more money, we buy the “off peak” travel cards, which allow all of that travel, but starting after 9:30 am to allow the working-class Londoners to get into the city early.
We arrived at Seven Sisters station, the underground station at 9:15. Chris and I grabbed a newspaper to read for 15 minutes until our cards would be operational at 9:30. As the time got closer to 9:30 more and more people were gathering where we were, right outside the electronic gates, waiting for 9:30. By 9:28 there were around 50 people congesting the entrance to the station. There was a digital clock on the wall that read 9:29.30 – people were anxiously watching it, though they didn’t want to look like they were, trying to glance at their magazine every few moments. As the seconds crept closer, the crowd began casually meandering towards the 10 electronic gates, there was so much tension in the air and anticipation that Chris and I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Finally the clock had 10 seconds to go, as we counted it down silently as if launching a shuttle into deep space. Once it hit 9:30.00 the crowd made a break for it, jamming their ticket into the slot only to be greeted by a loud buzz rejecting their card. The machine wasn’t calibrated to the nanosecond to that of the digital clock 10 feet away, but after a wait of 5 seconds, the machines began letting us through.

Cris and I also stopped off at Kings Cross station to take a picture under ‘Platform 9 3/4,’ made famous from the Harry Potter novels as the platform where the Hogwarts Express departs from. They have placed a cart that is half way through the wall to take pictures with, which we did.

After walking around London taking pictures, Cris had to go back to Cat Hill to go to class, and I decided to walk around a little more on my own. My feet were very soar and needed to rest, so I looked for the nearest Starbucks, which happened to be right behind me – and I sat down for a while with a frappachino.
I began walking down towards Tottenham Court Road which houses the theatre district. I walked up to the Prince Edward Theatre, which is showing the show Mary Poppins, the most popular theatre show in London at the moment, and just walked inside to see if they had any tickets for the night’s performance. Coincidently they had one in the 5th row dead centre, and I couldn’t pass up the cheap ticket. I went back home to drop off my bag and rest a little before heading back into London to catch the show. It was nice to do an activity alone, as sad as it might sound, but being around so many people all the time is a little draining, and this was a necessary break from going everywhere in groups of 5 or more.



The show was really incredible. The set consisted of a dollhouse like set up where rooms would actually come forward, fly up and down and shuffle around. Mary Poppins also made a pretty cool exit at the conclusion of the show when she flew from the stage, above the entire audience and into the ceiling of the theatre.

As she says, my day was practically perfect in everyway.

kids in america

There are very few times that we can get an idea about what it is like to view the United States from another culture. For me, these last three weeks have been exactly that - a chance to take a critical look at my country and learn about others. Time Out magazine is a youth magazine published in London. In its latest issue it had an article addressed to British students who are thinking about studying abroad in America. I was so shocked by the reality of the article that I wanted to share it on my blog.

Please take the time to read this, as I know you will enjoy it.



KIDS IN AMERICA
by Tom Lamont


Many universities offer the chance to spend a year in America. Do it, says Tom Lamont, but be ready for a difference in attitude. Towards race? Money? No: booze.

Academic life certainly is different in America. Campuses, as self contained as any Center Parcs, are like miniature cities, with their own road networks, their own food sponsors… even their own police forces. Students are hugely competitive: academic progress is charted to the exactness of two decimal places. Everyone says ‘dude’ a lot – as a welcome, a title, an endearment and an admonishment. And the attitude toward drinking? You might find it a little strange.

‘Dude. I drank ten beers, eight shots and a glass of wine. Now pass me the water, I don’t want a hangover in the morning.’ Not an attitude towards the sauce to match that of their British counterpart. It might not seem an important difference – people study abroad to do more than get jagged – but the culture discord can lead to a pretty odd stay if you enjoy the occasional sip.

The first thing to remember is that, in America, you can only legally consume alcohol once you’re 21 (three years after buying your first handgun in Florida, six years after receiving a drivers licence in South Dakota, seven years after getting married in Texas.) The law is rigorously enforced – the most unassuming bars will have someone checking ID’s at the door – and can come as an enormous shock to the Brit who’s been “legal” for a while.

Boozing remains an under the table pursuit until students are well into their third year.
The habit of charting alcohol consumption with comprehensive, to the minute precision is probably the most obvious example of this: American students will happily keep you apprised, throughout an evening , of exactly how many cans, bottles, shots and swigs they have ingested…long after the ability to count should have been lost.

There’s little sense that drinking is for fun. Over here, the Sunday tabs wait all week to hand-wring over the binge-drinking epidemic gripping the nation’s youth. But the moral furore ignores the fact that the British student has also mastered that other, more careful, practice: the art of casual boozing. There’s the afternoon pint. The cheeky lunchtime half. If you know the right pubs, the pre-exam morning tankard. Drinking to the British student is a leisure activity. It is a pleasure.

To the American Student it is a sport. And a sport they must win. Hence their endurance style methods, devised to get as much alcohol into the body as possible without tasting it. ‘Shotgunning’ requires cutting a hold in the base of a beer can to aid swift all-in-one consumption. (The cans, by the way, are the 330ml, Coke sized sort – cute when compared to our hulking juggernauts.) The “beer bong” is a long, funnelled tube, held vertically to deliver two or three pints direct to the stomach. The “keg stand” sees an individual hoisted upside down over a keg of beer, fighting gravity to neck as much pressurised beer as possible, while contemporaries roar that immortal chorus “Chug!”

The spirit is light hearted, yes, but there’s something rather desperate and overly contrived about it all.

This doesn’t fully reveal itself until the end of an evening, when, after the frolics are over, you might see the same people – the shotgunners, the keg standers, the ones who have kept you tirelessly updated on their drinking progress – line up to sup from a bottle of water, careful to avoid a hangover in the morning. This boozing-by-numbers; arranged by little spontaneity, as one of many pursuits to make time for in a college in a week. It makes for eerily mature conclusions to drinking sessions that have been anything but.

There is a serious side to the difference in mentality, too. Without any kind of gentile introduction to booze – afforded, as it is in Europe, throughout the formative years – many American freshers arrive at college with virgin gullets, discover a sudden access to drink…and wake up in groups in the emergency room. Fraternity houses are regularly suspended or closed down by their universities after the plunge of a drunken innocent from the third floor balcony, or the belated discovery of a dead fresher beneath a pile of plastic cups. Many universities have their own police units, driven – through an almost utter lack of serious on campus crime – to patrol the quiet collegiate roads, ticketing minors who weren’t quick enough to toss their beers. An hour in handcuffs and a hundred buck fine, all for the quiet sip of a beer? Not unheard of.

It all seems unnecessarily straight-faced at times, bypassing the spirited, communal side of drinking. You may find yourself the bemused soul in the corner of a room , longing to enjoy a casual drink without chalking up figures after every sip. Our advice? Don’t let it put you off going… just don’t get caught raising your eyebrows too often.

And keep this happy though in mind: there is a welcoming pub in yonder isle beyond the sea, with ale and McCoys aplenty; a landlord who couldn’t care less about your ID; and a crowd who are too busy counting shrapnel from the Millionaire machine to bother about the number of glasses they’ve held. Dude, it’s the way it should be.

a little punting

- A bike in front of St. Mary's College -

This morning Michaele and I left Ted Lewis at 8:30 and walked to Robbins Hall, the other residence hall near the Enfield campus. We met Megan and Damon at Robbins and sat with them in their kitchen as they finished up breakfast and prepared for our day trip to Cambridge. We walked from Robbins to the Ponders End train station and bought a return ticket.

As we were waiting for the train, another train, the Stanstead express would rip past the platform at incredible speeds unannounced, a frightening experience if you were not paying attention. The weather was typical, overcast and bitter cold for the morning. We boarded the train and then changed trains to catch the one to Cambridge. The ride was very scenic as we sped north out of London and into English countryside of sheep and rolling green hills. We arrived in Cambridge about an hour later.



We walked out of the station and immediately noticed the increase of students in the town, they were everywhere. We grabbed a coffee and some munchies at a French café on the corner and began on our walking tour of the city. Cambridge has 32 total colleges within the city. All of the colleges have massive campuses made up of ancient stone architecture and towering cathedrals. After asking, we learned that this week is fresher’s week, a week where freshman are introduced to the workings of the school – we saw tons of tours being lead around the colleges.

We ate lunch on a bench in one of the gardens and then headed towards King’s College. Many of the large colleges are located along a river that winds around the outside of the city and under ancient stone bridges. The river is usually busy with people riding in boats that are being punted. Punting is the act of propelling the boat through the water by sticking a long pole to the bottom of the river and pushing – similar to the gondolas in Venice. The moment we saw the boats travelling down the picturesque river, we knew what our next activity was going to be.



Megan, Damon, Michaele and I headed to the Punting dock where Cambridge University students were all dressed up as pirates boarding the boats. It was quite humorous to watch the new students try and push the long boats through the water, but then we realized that we were next, and probably wouldn’t be laughing when we went in circles. The four of us were given our own boat and punting pole for one hour, and no instruction on how to use it. Damon was the first punter and did an excellent job propelling us down the river.


It was also quite humorous to see the other people punting. Many of the tourists just signed up for the guided punting tour, where they just sit in a luxury boat and have some Cambridge senior punt them down the river, explaining the sights, using the same jokes on each run. Ourselves on the other hand, decided to go for the self guided adventure.

The only close call was when Megan was punting, the boat rocked quite violently and she almost lost her footing – that would have been a chilly swim. I also got kind of tangled into some willow trees while punting, but all was well. It was a very peaceful time and made for some great laughs and beautiful sights. Damon was the champion punter of the day, he credits his English blood.

After returning our boat, we walked to the circle church – a church modelled after the temple in Jerusalem, and headed to Weatherspoons for dinner before catching the 7:30 train back to Enfield. Cambridge is one of the most beautiful cities I have been to, and it was defiantly worth the visit.

brie in the park

This morning Megan and Michaele and I met to make our way to the ever-familiar Tesco shopping market. There is not a day that goes by where we don’t walk into Tesco, it is so convenient for sack lunches and very inexpensive. We were on our way to Trent Park to meet Damon and George, flatmates of Megans, that we installing an art project on the campus. The campus is so large and full of thick woods that we had a hard time finding them, we were tired of walking around in the woods yelling “George… Damon!” that we settled on a bench in the middle of the park and unpacked our lunch.

In London, Saturday is a day to get things done around the house, but Sunday is reserved for going to the parks and enjoying the leisure that comes with a day off. As we sat on the bench, countless families walked by with their dogs, children and grandparents. It was really special when a black lab and a chocolate lab came up to greet us, reminding me of my dog Grace. Moms would walk by kicking a football with their son, and little girls raced on their tricycles down the path. It was quite a sight, nearly every minute a different group would walk by, and we were in remote Trent Park, I can only imagine the liveliness on Sundays at Hyde Park.

Megan made some very European snacks for our park lunch, they included crackers, cranberry sauce, brie cheese and grapes all together – it sounds a little odd, but it was delicious, try it if you like.

We ended up spending 3 hours in the park, taking pictures, watching the wildlife, drawing pictures with our Tesco brand crayons and watching the English families walk by. It was excellent.

Enfield Photos

a cheerie English afternoon

This morning was the first morning that I slept in, I am officially completely settled in – I mean, who else would sleep in till 11 in London, there are things to do, pictures to take, fish and chips to eat.

Michaele and I decided to make today an adventure, with no plans and a bus pass, we made our way towards Enfield town. We walked down the crowded streets of the small town centre and into some of the stores. I was looking for some jeans and found some good ones at a local store. The reason that I was looking for some new jeans came out of a comment from Teripsi, one of the Greeks. The American style of Jeans is very baggy and loose, and she said that my pants look like Eminem’s, the rapper. Most Londoners wear straight legged jeans, and they are usually too long when you buy them, and need to be altered.

We crossed the main street and began walking back into some neighbourhoods. We were just walking around some streets when we came to a small river that made its way along the houses. Little bridges connected the houses to the street, now this was England! Each house had a different coloured door and a small picket fence that protected rose gardens.

We heard some yelling and cheering so we followed the river walk towards a large field where we saw a football (soccer) game being played. On the way to the game we passed through the churchyard, which housed gravestones from the 1800’s, many of them green with moss and vine and cracked. Some of the tombs were actually split exposing small holes that looked in, we didn’t really want to get much closer.



The football game was very exciting and we talked with an old man that was the referee of the game. He was holding an umbrella and wearing rain boots in perfectly sunny weather. “This team is complete rubbish,” he told us. Michaele and I walked back to Enfield, saving a bus ticket. When we got home, Michaele prepared a turkey and pasta dish for Teripsi, Cristobal and myself.

We always have a ton of fun in the kitchen. The most memorable part of the dinner conversation was when somebody mentioned Michaele’s name (her name is pronounced like the male name Michael) and Teripsi said “Who is Michaele?” We all began laughing in astonishment…”Michaele is the girl that cooked us dinner, the one that is sitting to the left of you… your flat mate, the girl that you have been hanging out with for the past two weeks!” “Your name is Michaele?” said Teripsi. We couldn’t contain ourselves, “What did you think my name was Teripsi?” asked Michaele. “I always thought it was Miko.” – her Greek accent is so strong that she had been saying “Miko” for the last two weeks, and we didn’t even notice a difference!

After easing the side aches that wretched our stomachs from laughing, Teripsi grabbed her huge container of bottled water and said, I am going to go take a shower. The laughing continued. To give you some background, we have all noticed our hair falling out more since we are here. Teripsi thinks that it is because the London water is so hard. She has decided to start washing her hair with bottled water from the Tesco supermarket. We all about lost it, as someone exclaimed that she should just take a bath with Evian. We all love Teripsi, as she makes times like these memorable.