The City of Lights

How am I supposed to capture my experience in the beautiful Paris within these swift scratchings on a page? The entire time I was there, moment bled into moment, memory into memory. I do have distinct recollections of the specific monuments and buildings that I visited, but when I attempt to pierce the dreamy fog of my experience, I find it difficult to separate one museum from another. This is not because I didn't treasure every painting that and sculpture that I could, but there was just too much art to take in at once!

Even now, I can still dwell in awe upon the The Raft of the Medusa, gaze in rapture at Psyche and Cupid, or even stand in amazement before Nike of Samothrace. So many pieces of art struck me and enthralled me that I cannot begin to ever remember them all.

However, the beginning is always a good place to start. My friend Laura and I had the opportunity to leave Harlaxton on November 12th, a Wednesday afternoon. So, we caught a train to Nottingham and then made it to East Midlands Airport. From there, we flew into Paris. When we first arrived, I realized that Paris was going to be the first place I really had to work hard to navigate. But, after some work, we made it to our hostel, this first one being where we spent two of our four nights.

The next morning, we took off and begun our exploration of Paris at a place that I had always wanted to visit: the Eiffel Tower. The line was not too long, so we got up to the third and uppermost level of the tower pretty quickly. I still cannot decide what I liked more, the tower or the view. Looking around, I saw Notre Dame Cathedral for the first time far off in the distance, caught a glimpse of the Arc d' Triumph, and even spied the Louvre. It is just an absolutely gorgeous city, one easily dominated by this iconographic tower, an engineering marvel.

From there, we went straight to the Arc d' Triumph. There was a small, pleasant museum inside of it, but nothing extravagant. I had always envisioned seeing this monument, a dream which was not disappointed. The friezes that decorate the outside of this arch are magnificent. Once again, I found myself wistfully wishing that my own country was so dominated by historical markers while I gazed over this city from the top of this wonderful piece of architecture.

After that, we made it to the Louvre, which was the first French palace that I ever approached, but definitely not the last one. After all, the number of French palaces is almost without number. With so many large buildings that can have no other possible purpose, it is no wonder that so many museums are housed in Paris. I remained in the Louvre until it closed, and I focused mainly on sculptures this first time. I saw a lot of Greek sculpture, the Venus de Milo, Nike of Samothrace, wandered through every piece of sculpture I could find, and found myself transfixed before Cupid and Psyche. Something about this piece of artwork simply captivated me. I also did make it to a group of paintings, which included the Mona Lisa (which I found less impressive than the world does), The Raft of Medusa, and Liberty Guiding the People, just to mention a few.

That evening, Laura and I had a mix-up when we tried to regroup, so I continued on the Orsay Museum, which is full of works by pre-impressionists and impressionists. I can still see a painting by Ingres before my mind, which is simply the first of many artists that flitted across my vision that night. I still remember my surprise at seeing two rather large paintings by Toulouse-Lautrec, my joyful relaxation at seeing more works by Degas, an eager fascination with a Van Gogh, my peaceful enjoyment of Monet's light study of Rouen Cathedral. I wish I could vividly remember each and every painting, but I cannot. Memory is like a sieve.

I made it back to the hostel that evening, and the next morning we had to continue on to our next hostel. So, we made it to Gare Lyon and started wandering around. At one point, I asked a Frenchman for directions in English, he made it clear that he did not understand English, but asked if I knew Spanish. Thus, an American got directions from a Frenchman through Spanish. It was quite entertaining. We eventually got where we were going, and then hopped back onto the Paris tube and went to the very heart of the city—the Île de la Cité upon which Notre Dame Cathedral stands.

It was so utterly... majestic, so uniquely impressive. I've seen cathedral after cathedral, church after church ever since I've been here, but the uniqueness of each one never ceases to surprise. I loved the chance to explore the cathedral and then to go up into the two main towers. However, seeing the inside of the bell tower was fabulous, the largest bell being the pinnacle of the journey, which Quasimodo would have rung only on special occasions. ;)

After that, Laura and I grabbed a quick lunch before we went back to the Louvre. I blazed through as much of that museum as possible, knowing that I wouldn't be able to make it back there for some time. To finish it off, I added some more prints and postcards to my collection. We then tried to go back to the Orsay Museum, but had my knowledge of museum hours proved themselves inaccurate. After that, I went back to the Louvre again, discovered that I had displaced my museum pass, and so just grabbed some dinner before grabbing the tube back home.

However, the third and final day proved to be a ridiculously busy day. We started off with some time well spent at the Orsay Museum, and this time I added to my already large number of prints and postcards. Instead of tackling the whole museum again, I stopped by The Spring by Ingres, Manet's Olympia, and The Fifer, also by Manet. After that, I went up and just resolved into quiet contemplation of the impressionist gallery.

From there, we went to the Orangerie Museum, which had eight absolutely magnificent waterlily paintings by Monet, as well as another set of impressionist paintings—and there's a series by Renoir that catches my focus every single time. I can't help but find any of these particular paintings captivating when I lay eyes on them. After that, we went to the Rodin Museum and I got to see the original Gates of Hell as well as all of the pieces of sculpture that it inspired him to create. It was absolutely spectacular. I loved it.

A quick saunter over to Napoleon's Tomb was the next on the agenda, which had the misfortune of taking a while. It was in an area behind a cathedral, one which I actually found unremarkable for a cathedral. After that, it was back on to the tube. Laura then went back to our hostel and I continued on to the Eiffel Tower again and walked up to the second of three stories because it was cheaper, even if my feet were rather upset by the end of it.

After that, I ended my last free time in Paris with a night river tour of the Seine. My time at Eiffel Tower and upon the river truly revealed with this magnificent place is called the City of Lights! It was absolutely gorgeous. It was so enjoyable to simply sit back and listen to the history of the place, even if I cannot remember a word of it now.

The rest of my time was spent stopping by the Gare du Nord to grab some train tickets back to London, and since the best prices were for the earliest train in the morning, we took it and arrived safely back in Grantham.

Despite how much time I spent there, I need at least another week there to see everything I want to in the time that I would like to. So much to see and so little time.

All the World's a Play

My third time to London began with a British Studies field trip on November 7th, with requirements to first stop by St. Paul's Cathedral and then to spend some time at the National Art Gallery. However, the first part of the day left me with an interesting question: is a cathedral still a cathedral if it is more dedicated to remembering people than to remembering Christ?

St. Paul's Cathedral was, without a doubt, the least religious one I have ever set foot in, though the word 'religious' is not quite right. I think the words 'Christ glorifying' might get the point across better. This cathedral was all about celebrating the military exploits of Britain, with a section behind the altarpiece devoted to Americans that died, if I remember correctly, in World War II. I found more references to Admiral Nelson than I did to Christ. It was a glorious cathedral, and I greatly enjoyed going up to the balcony surrounding the outside of the dome and getting a magnificent view of London, but it was difficult to truly find G-d there.

From there, I met up with some friends, and we made a stop at Twinings on our way to Trafalgar Square. I could not resist, I just had to get some tea and a couple gifts.

Now for one of the most amazing highlights of my time over here, which still strikes me as quite ludicrously funny. We got to Trafalgar Square, we being Annie, Jon, Bethany, Katie, Leil, and I, and started eating lunch. After a few moments, Katie decided to see if one of the pigeons would take a bite out of her apple while Katie held it in her mouth. I still chuckle when I remember seeing her bent over on the steps in front of the National Art Gallery trying to entice a pigeon to bite a piece out of the apple in her mouth.

Of course, then we started making it even better. We all had raisin packets in our sack lunches. Using this resource, many of us became pigeon whisperers—we started using raisins in our hands to get pigeons to land in them or on our arms. We had such a blast! I had two or three on my right arm at one point in time... of course, this was a motif of the day—my friend Ana had actually caught one before we went into St. Paul's Cathedral.

Then, once we finished having our fun, we found a sign just a few yards behind us.... One that said there is a possible 500 pound fine for feeding pigeons at Trafalgar Square.... Lucky that there weren't any police around, eh?

After that, we finally made it to the National Art Gallery, and they have quite a few phenomenal paintings, but it was my second trip, so I focused on the pictures I wanted to see more than trying to cover everything, which for me means focusing on paintings from around the impressionist period. I enjoyed myself. From there, it was off to see War Horse, which was an absolutely fantastic play. They puppetry of the horses was astounding it was just a wonderful story.

The next day, Laura and I remained because we had made plans to see Les Miserables. So, we had a good, lazy sort of day. We walked along the Thames River, passing by the Globe, and eventually stopped at the London Eye. When we got on, it was pretty cloudy, but by the time we had made it to the top, the sun was shining bright and the rain had already made its escape. It was a splendid day.

Les Miserables was simply breath-taking. The actor who played Jean Valjean had a magnificent tenor—very clear and distinct. I also greatly appreciated the differences between the play, novel, and movie that I've seen. I like how Eponine is portrayed in the play. A lot. Overall, it was just marvelous, simply marvelous.

The next morning, all we did was return to Grantham since I had a volleyball game that afternoon.

Christmas

As I sit here alone in a hotel room, I find myself once again contemplating the reason why we celebrate the holidays.

The easy answer is that we celebrate it in honor of the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. However, it is most highly unlikely that we celebrate his birth anywhere near the right day of the year. Don't get me wrong, I still celebrate it and love it for that reason. But I can't help but think it is something... more, that celebrating his birth is the starting point at this time of the year.

I was just contemplating this season and a sudden revelation struck me. I really don't care about getting even a single present under the tree. I mean, let's face it, we all have our lists of things we would like to receive and such, but this year I would much rather walk in on Christmas morning and watch the surprise and happiness light up the faces of my family rather than anything else. I know it's because of this semester and how incredibly blessed I've been with everywhere I've been and the things that I have seen, but all I want is to be home for Christmas, and I absolutely can't wait.

So, may all of you have a happy Christmas (as they say here in Britain), and remember the reason for the season. Celebrate our Lord's birth joyously and treasure every moment with your family and friends. After all, it isn't the season to be first, but to put yourself last. <3

From the Haunts of William Wallace

Making it to Scotland was a fun adventure in and of itself. Just watching the English countryside roll by as we made our way north was so enjoyable. I especially loved it when our train started following the east coast since I got to watch the waves wage their inexhaustible war against the land. It was a wonderful sight to behold as we passed into this country that has become so dear to my heart, or at least its northern portion has.

The time I spent in Edinburgh was fairly brief and only lasted for the part of Friday that we were there for, starting around eleven. Finding our hostel was a fascinating challenge since I had never received the e-mail that told us where we were staying, but Jaci and I found the tour company that we had booked with and got it all straightened out. After that, we really just walked around the city. The only thing that really peaked my interest was King Arthur's Seat, and it was too late in the day to try and begin to climb it. So instead, we just walked around for a while and enjoyed the wonderful architecture of the city while shopping for souvenirs and gifts. Overall, it was quite the enjoyable afternoon evening. I wouldn't mind making it back, but a day or two would be more than sufficient for me there.

But. Then came my favorite part of the trip. The next morning, we left bright and early for a two day Scottish Highlands tour and I consequently fell in love with the place.

What words can I use to describe it? Even if a picture is a thousand words and you count the couple hundred or so that I took, the novel still would not begin to state what a wondrous place this was and the magic that it worked upon me. I fell in love with the landscape, drawn to it like Odysseus to the siren's call.

The first morning we stopped by to see a specimen of the Highland cattle; the name of the species escapes me at the moment. The stop was brief before we drove into the Highlands. It was so completely breath-taking that I can even feel it as I write this, weeks later.
The lochs that we passed through that morning were like glass, reflecting the magnificent landscape surrounding us like a mirror. The crags enclosing us on every side; the beautiful pine tree forests with their myriad and riots of color; the distant mix of gold, brown, and gray on the mountain slopes; all of it just completely overwhelmed me, heart and soul. If there was ever a place that I felt G-d's peace and his simplistic joy, it was here. It was here where the entire land looked as if G-d had dragged his fingertips along the ground, creating lochs, glens, straits, and mountains at his own pleasure.

What made it all the more enjoyable were the many stories that our guide had in store for us. We heard stories about Rob Roy, William Wallace, the many different clan wars, everything you could imagine--including the filming of Braveheart and how our guide supposedly took Mel Gibson's wife out bowling (I learned to take a lot of his stories with a grain of salt--ask me for 'em some time, I have plenty notes down to do a decent retelling :).

Our path was winding and twisted but it was a blast. After we stopped by Fort William (and were recommended that going through Fort William by rail takes you through some of the most magnificent scenery in the world, as if it could get any better than what we had!), we actually stopped by the location of the Harry Potter bridge because one of our tour members (the young enigmatic school teacher's assistant from London) wanted to see it. We ended our day by settling down in a hostel in Inverness after making one more impressive stop.

Seeing Loch Ness was such a fun experience. This loch, enclosed on all sides by mountainous terrain, was so long that it looked like air and sky met from where I was standing. And to hear the stories! Apparently, it isn't just Loch Ness that has its fair stories of hidden, lurking creatures. It's common, even to this day, to hear of fisherman with stories of dark shadows, unknown creatures moving across the lochs, especially the ones that are off the beaten track.
To finish the evening off, we went and grabbed some wonderful Thai food at a traditional Scottish pub (yeah, odd mix, right?) and enjoyed a wonderful night of music. I absolutely adored Abigail Gray, the folk music band that played some absolutely beautiful music. The heavy rock band that followed it was enjoyable, but they really weren't that good. I just enjoyed feeling the bass vibrating the entire building.

From there, we continued driving through the Scottish Highlands for a bit longer before making a quick stop at a place where one of Scotland's many rebellions first started. I believe this one was Kett's rebellion, the final result being that the Highlanders were once again defeated and the English made it illegal for them to carry claymores or wear kilts. However, it was really cool to see how inaccessible the Highlands were until the last couple hundred years or so. I can easily understand why it was so difficult to stop the Highlanders from rebelling constantly.

After stopping there, we continued on to St. Andrew's, the birthplace of golf. It was a fun stop for a couple hours and I got a chance to pick up, as usual, a couple of books by Scottish authors, this time choosing The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle as well as Ivanhoe by Walter Scott. But just before we left, I got a chance to stop on the beach for a moment, the beach where the opening scene of Chariots of Fire was filmed.

Then we got back to Edinburgh pretty late that evening, but it had been a good weekend. So, Jaci and I dropped our stuff off at our hostel before going to grab dinner with the group one last time--and it was so much fun. I can't really remember their names (let's face it, our group talked but really didn't use each others names that often--I guess we figured we'd only know each other for a couple of days). I had a chance to try a little bit of Haggis and have decided that I actually like it and also discovered that my favorite Scottish whiskey is MacAllen 10. All in all, it was a wonderful evening to end a wonderful trip. We listened to live music, chatted, hung out, and then Jaci and I grabbed a very early train the next morning back to Grantham.

I am going to make it back to the Highlands of Scotland. End of story. Part of me is still there, exploring the hills, mountains, lochs, glens, and straits. I'll just have to go back and get that part. :)

A Beautiful Day in Cambridge

This post is going to be pretty short since I really only spent a day in Cambridge, but it was an absolutely beautiful day.

From the beginning, my quest was to find a copy of Lyrical Ballads by Coleridge and Wordsworth since that was where the two poets would have first crossed paths. But it was a wonderful day exploring the city with my friends Brian, Jordan, Amy, Amanda, and Lindsay. We had a fun time exploring the town and walking around. When we made it to the outside of King's College, I was entertained because everyone was stopped looking at a clock in the window across the street from the college instead of at the college. Now, it was a truly impressive watch that appeared to have a grasshopper making it move slowly and surely, but it still made me want to laugh at the irony of it. :)

The only real stop that I made was at King's College Chapel. However, since no one else wanted to pay for the entrance fee, I went in alone. I must say that I found the inside of the place absolutely astounding. Out of all the many churches and cathedrals I've seen during my time here, this one was completely unique, and I loved the beautiful and luminous atmosphere that its Gothic architecture created.

Overall, It was an absolutely beautiful city and the architecture was phenomenal. My pictures keep a better account of what I saw than any amount of words could.

On my way back to join up with the group, I finally found the bookstore that I had been looking for the entire time and picked up Lyrical Ballads as well as three books by P.G. Wodehouse since they were on sale, three for two. It was a lucky find since I actually headed to the wrong marketplace on my way to meet up with the rest of the group, though I did love the little artistic market that accidentally discovered. It was full of wonderful unique works of art and I loved the chance to glance through it.

After realizing my mistake, I headed to the correct market and found met the group on the way. The most entertaining experience (of perhaps the entire day) was with an Englishman that was high. He was going on about how he loved the South and was talking about all of the stereotypical views of the South (and seemed stuck in the Civil War era--he entertained me, a lot).

On the way to catch the train at the station, we took a really scenic route back to the station, first following the river along the backside of a few colleges and eventually walked by the botanical gardens and finally made it, just in time to catch the later train that I had scouted out. It was definitely a wonderful day and I got to see enough of Cambridge to satisfy me. Who knows where I'll end up next?

The Unfortunately Effective Suffolk Workhouse and Beautiful Belvoir Castle

On October twenty second, I had the opportunity to see excellent examples of the extremes of Victorian England. With the Suffolk Workhouse epitomizing the aristocratic solution to the "Victorian problem" and Belvoir (pronounced "Beaver") Castle epitomizing the opulence of the extravagant lifestyle of the upper class.

Because of the uninhibited drive to create a large amount of profit quickly through Britain's unique start into the Industrial Revolution. Unfortunately, the poor conditions and payment of the workers resulted in a large problem soon after. Not only were many families unable to support themselves with the meager money that they earned, but many of the workers were permanently disabled because of workplace accidents.

The solution to this problem came in the form of places such as the Suffolk Workhouse. At the workhouse, not only were families divided, children with children, men with men, and women with women, but the healthy were also divided from the infirm or disabled. Families were only allowed to see each other for an hour on Sundays and the smallest infraction against the rules could result in this privilege being revoked.

The building was not designed to remain warm during the winter and the working conditions in the cellar, where women would take care of the food preparation and storage. Just looking in the cellar, it is possible to see the erosion caused by the water that would have been freezing and up to the knees of the women working down their in the winter, with their dresses slowly soaking up the water the entire time. The men, however, were required to keep hard at working cracking large stones into smaller pieces to be used for pavement. These places were designed to discourage use and children were separated from their families because it was thought that the parents were stuck in such a low position because of their own faults.

Overall, this austere building revealed these attitudes toward the poor and the deplorable conditions that they were forced to live in. Just a short drive from this place is where one can find the ostentatious Belvoir Castle.

In the same way that all Victorian architecture tended to mimic a variety of classical styles, and even the Elizabethan copy of classical style. Because of this, the fourth iteration of Belvoir Castle was created in the image of a fairy tale castle at the request of the then current duke's wife. Even though the work was not completed until after her death, this castle remains an impressive monument to the aristocratic ideals of the day.

But, like all manors and castles created during this time, the area inhabited by the high society family was completely separated from the areas that the servants lived and worked in. Throughout the day, the only servants that should ever step foot in the state rooms would be the maids keeping it clean and the butler. All of the servants were supposed to be out of sight and out of mind.

However, this does not detract from the beautiful rooms of this castle, which is still inhabited by the Rutland family to this day, though the ornate state rooms are rarely used except for being exhibited through tours. Although, it is possible to rent the rooms for an evening, as long as one is willing to pay 3,000 dollars per person per night; after all, that's the price that one pays to spend the evening in the same room as royalty and some of the most famous figures of today, such as John Lennon.

All in all, it was a wonderful day and Belvoir Castle truly was like a fairy tale come to life with the richly ornate state rooms and the decorative use of the remaining old weaponry. I have the distinct impression that my time here will have an indelible effect on my design tendencies. Not that I will be inclined to be ornate when it comes time to design my own house, but some of the characteristics of Belvoir Castle and Harlaxton Manor will be making a reappearance.

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The Musings of a Saddened Mind

What am I supposed to do, in light of receiving condemnation for all the traits and qualities that I hold dear? Am I supposed to turn over and accept the condemnations to my character and immediately agree, accepting only one person's view of Christianity? I cannot. I must not. I will not.

I've been told that the United States Constitution is subservient to law--the complete inverse of this government's foundations. I've been told that it is not possible for a godly person to vote for Obama. I've been told that McCain is the only godly choice and condemned for considering that Obama could further the Kingdom of G-d.

I supported McCain.

I'm tired of being slammed against the wall by those determined to teach me the error of my ways. I'm tired of being told that my simple faith in G-d is not good enough. I'm tired of people claiming that I called them names when I only discuss their arguments. I'm tired of people's ignorance of their own government. I'm just..... tired of having to defend myself against those who should give me unwavering support.

I'm tired of friendship not ringing true.

For those of you who have supported me, who do support me, who are willing to quietly listen to what I think without taking arms against me, I thank you. I miss you. I can't wait to see you again. I can't help but think that those of you I count in that number are small indeed but worth all the treasure in the world.