The Metaphorical Resonances of the London Underground

My last day in London was pretty wonderful. I didn't do anything dramatic or expensive or crazy. I just
hit up all the old familiar places. I walked around the city that I'd come to think of as mine. I said goodbye to the wonderful host family that put up with me for several months. I had a last drink at our favorite pub with all my favorite London people. I said a tearful goodbye to my roommate who literally could not have been a more perfect match for me.

On Hampstead Heath

I spent my last day with my friends Katie and Jessica. We did things that we never took the time to do usually, like stand in the incredibly long line at King's Cross to get our picture taken at Platform 9 3/4 (totally worth it). We wandered around our lovely city, enjoying the fact that we knew our way around without a map and that we could navigate the tube with little stress. We looked out over Hampstead Heath at the iconic view of London.

Last selfie with my roommate

The fourteen of us who were part of the program got together at The Junction, our standard meeting
place throughout the semester for one last hurrah. We were minus a few people who had to leave early-I witnessed the saddest goodbye of all, when my friends Jessica and Megan said goodbye in the Harrow on the Hill tubes station. To say there were tears is an understatement. Later, after our night at the Junction in which there were many toasts and an impromptu piano sing along (piano performance by Denae McGaha), the rest of us said goodbye at that same tube station.

Goodbyes at The Junction

To say goodbye at a Tube station was pretty metaphorically resonant of us. Trains taking us to other places. The Metropolitan line-the first train line that we took together and the last. The train line that meant we were headed home.

I know London has been there for hundreds of years and will, in all likelihood, be there for hundreds more. But I won't ever be able to recapture those specific four months spent in a place I loved with people I grew to love. That's okay. I was lucky.

Daily Commute

A short photo essay about my daily commute in to school, as it's such an essentially London experience. There are a dozen ways for me to get in to the city, but this is the route I take most often! (note: this was taken on a good day. A bad day involves signal failure, train delays and a lot of really fast walking)

                        8:45 am                                                             8:46 am                                                             8:55 am
      Leaving the house (right on time)                 My street on a rainy day                                The footpath to the station

9:00 am
My home station: Northwick Park

                        9:04 am                                                              9:05 am                                                             9:07 am
Just in time for the all stations to Aldgate           The best line is the Met line                   Free newspaper (learn, America)

9:35 am
King's Cross/St. Pancras station - The majesty of St. Pancras never fails to make me pause

                                              9:40 am                                                                                                  9:42 am
                                Beautiful tree lined street                                                Sometimes on nice days I stroll through the
                                                                                                                                              public park on my way in
      

                                           9:47 am                                                                                                  9:50 am
       No unsupervised adults allowed in Coram's Fields                                              Best street in London! 

9:51 am
Home, sweet home, with nine minutes to spare!

Scotland Week Part 3: Arthur's Seat

In Edinburgh, you basically have two ends to the city. At one end is Edinburgh castle, high on a hill above the city. At the other end, connected by a road called The Royal Mile, is Holyrood Palace and the Scottish Parliament building, backed by the dramatic scenery of Arthur's Seat. On our free afternoon in Edinburg a few of my friends and I casually decided to climb Arthur's Seat. It was nice out, we were in Scotland, why not?  We clearly had no idea what we were doing.

It started out so civilized

Halfway up. I didn't know what was coming, clearly.

First of all, we were confused as to which mountain was actually Arthur's Seat. There's a really distinctive one that we all thought was the Seat, but it turns out it's an entirely different hill. Arthur's Seat is behind it, and about twice as high. Secondly, none of us were particularly dressed for hiking. We were wearing boots of the non-hiking variety, and Denae was in a dress. Lastly, we had't read the weather very well at all. 

The tippy top!

At first it seemed like everything would be fine. The path, while not paved per say, was graveled and fairly flat. Then it started to slope up. And up. And up. It finally got the point where we were basically rock climbing without a rope. It felt that way to me, at least. Now, I realize that Scottish "mountains" are little tiny babies when compared with, like, Mt. Hood, but tell that to me when I'm clinging to the side of one. Then, predictably, as soon as we hit the top it started storming. Incredible wind combined with moderate rain and the exposed face of a mountaintop makes for uncomfortable hikers. We didn't even stay at the top long enough to eat the celebratory fudge we'd bought ahead of time.

All worth it for the spectacular view

So then we had to crawl down, now with the additional challenge of inclement weather that had turned the solid dirt to muddy slip n slides. Through an act of God, none of us really fell over, though I did end up with a sizable bruise on my thigh. It was dark and windy and cold and wet and we were miserable. By the time we hit the bottom, we still had a twenty plus minute walk to our hostel. Dripping and freezing, we burst through the doors like we'd found the gates to Heaven. 

Wet and cold but still happy

As crazy and miserable as it was, all any of us could talk about afterwards was the story. Now we have a story, a conversation we can start with "Remember that time we climbed a volcano in Scotland in a storm?" That's what living life is all about, right? Having shared experiences we can talk and laugh about for the rest of our lives.

The mountain that did not beat us

Blogging From the Past: NYC

This is a travel blog. It’s not necessarily just a Rachel Goes to London blog, especially since I haven’t left yet. It’s mine anyway. I make the rules. Muah ha ha. So I’m going to talk about some traveling I did earlier this year. Because I can.

A good friend of mine goes to Barnard in New York City (fancy, right?) and I've been dying to go see her (and, you know, New York) for a while. I finally got to go this year, courtesy of my lovely parents and a well placed birthday. It was a super short trip, only three days, but still SO MUCH FUN.  I was very intimidated by the whole idea: traveling by myself, navigating the subway (as mentioned, I have a fear of public transportation. Is there a word for that?), trying not to look like a tourist. As with most of my fears, it was unfounded. 

My lovely host (pictured left, with me) took me on a beautiful walking tour of NYC that reminded me of why I like to drive. I think we walked something like forty blocks, with detours through Central Park and 5th Avenue (to see the Plaza because Eloise!). We walked past Times Square and 30 Rock (I had a Tina Fey moment) and while I didn't particularly feel like a Native New Yorker, I felt okay. Better than I thought I would. 

I also got to see Zachary Levi (Chuck! Tangled! Thor 2!), who is a beautiful, beautiful soul, in his Broadway show, First Date, which made me laugh and cry, like all good things should. There was a certain song that had a, um, Jewish flair, we'll say, that my friend trio, Jews and Gentiles alike, nearly died of laughter while watching.

AND AND AND I rode the subway like a pro! My deep-seated fear of public transportation was served a temporary eviction notice, because-shocker!-using the subway is not actually that hard. In fact, it's pretty basic. It gives me hope for the tube in London. 

More pretty pictures:

30 Rock!! I want to go to there (again). Liz Lemon is my sprit animal and possibly also the incarnation of my adult self.

No trip anywhere is complete until you go to the bookstore. I believe my friend posted this to Facebook with the caption, "This is what a 20 year old look like."

In the Arms & Armory section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, standing next to my preferred suit of armor. Because I'm not a princess. I'm a khaleesi.

View from Central Park!

My trip to New York was definitely a big step towards my goal of Independence and Confidence. I did it all by myself, planes, trains, automobiles and all.  It also have me an appreciation for the city, an environment I've never really been in much. It's something new and exciting, what I'm always after.