is it possible to be TOO much influenced by books?

One of my English purchases :)

Diary entries while in Europe:

London, 15 August
... I can see why Bean in Fantastic Mr Fox existed on cider alone. ...

Brighton, 30 August
... I went for a little walk through a field up a hill, and calmed right down. It was exactly how England's supposed to be. I felt like Elizabeth Bennet wandering round Hertfordshire.
Then I saw cows in the next paddock over, and started imagining farmers with dogs and/or guns, a la Farmer Maggot of the Shire, so I quickly made my way back to campus. ...

Brighton, 31 August
... There is something very likeable about Brighton. Taste is an unknown word, but it's very vibrant, and everywhere you look something is going on. I felt like I shouldn't like it, but I did.
I can see why this is the place Lydia Bennet eloped with Wickham. It's exactly the sort of place where you do stupid things.

Brighton, 2 September [in the Royal Pavilion]
... I kept wondering, trying to remember, as I wandered through the rooms, "Was this the room where the heroine of Regency Buck fainted when the Prince Regent tried to kiss her?"

Prague - Krakow, 15-16 September
... We were on the 21.09 to Krakow Glowny, in a ladies' sleeper shared by three. ... We were told we MUST lock our doors or we would be robbed by gypsies, and it felt like a cross between Murder on the Orient Express and “The Elves and the Shoemaker”.

London, 26 September
... I started off by catching a bus to Manor House Station, and then hopping on the Piccadilly and Centre lines to Notting Hill. I knew I would not forgive myself if I didn't go to Portobello Road Market on a Saturday morning. So I went. ... I bought one antique print, a woodcut, which I am very pleased with for £15. ACTUALLY considered buying an 1899 illustrated Pride and Prejudice for £180. Even after calculating exchange rates and figuring out exactly how much that would cost me, I considered it. Ended up ruefully deciding I couldn't justify it. ...

a little piece of me is in London

It's over two weeks ago now, but here am I: displayed proudly in a glass case in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. I'm the big one in the middle; you may JUST be able to see a sketch of a vase. As the public walked into this particular room, we were given a card and a pencil and asked to draw our favourite ceramic from home; minutes later, we were part of an exhibition. Little pieces of people.

And now I'm home. There are wonderful things about being home:
- seeing people: family, flatmates, friends.
- living in a country where cigarettes are unpopular and where smokers are subject to etiquette.
- a silly and unpredictable climate which makes me feel quite a fondness for little old New Zealand, buffeted on all sides by the weather.
- ducklings, daffodils... etc.
- getting involved in the History department again.

Less wonderful are:
- the constant questions of "how was Europe?" What else can I say but "er, really good. Do you want more detail?"
- catching up on two months of missed Russian language classes. MY HEAD HURTS.
- a feeling of boredom as I go from extreme activeness to moments of free time.
- most of all, feeling like there is a little piece of me missing.

Here is what I wrote in my diary, sitting in Heathrow Airport on 29 September, waiting to leave London:

"I cannot believe it's only two months since I came through Heathrow for the first time, but at the same time it feels like yesterday. Up until writing, I've felt very matter-of-fact about it all--oh yes, I'll be in Christchurch on Thursday--but suddenly, a wave of unease hits me, and I just know I don't want to go. New Zealand is still my favourite place in the entire world--make that GALAXY--but I feel torn. I absolutely love this place; I've no idea when I will come back, if ever; it has been, possibly, the time of my life. And I'm supposed to just go back home and settle into life again? to consider my future in an unbiased manner when everything is whispering "England! England!"? I'm one of those people I hate, Miss Travelling-CHANGED-Me - no, I'm not. At least, I hope not. But I won't be able to explain it to anyone without hurting their feelings or elevating the NZ inferiority complex, which is not my intent or purpose at all. Being away has heightened my appreciation of what we have at home to a huge extent. But I want to be in two places at once, which we all know is impossible."

So here I am now. Loving being home; missing London. Struggling to find my niche.

snapshots, part IV

Too many snapshots, so little time! Anyway, here are some more.

The battlefield of the Battle of Hastings, 1066, + the abbey built at the top of it as a penance.

The ruins of the abbey

Inside the monks' quarters

Stairway

Fun and games on Brighton Beach

High Street, Battle

Dusk

A for Allie

Walking up an English hill made me feel like Lizzy Bennet striding around Hertfordshire

I'm off to Eastern Europe on Wednesday, so... see you later. With, no doubt, a whole lot more snapshots and a really difficult job choosing which ones to share.

snapshots, part III

I have just had the most fantastic five nights in Brighton. I did not expect to enjoy Brighton as much as I did. It's the most tasteless place I've ever been in but it LURES you in. The Prince Regent seems to have started the trend for OTT in the early 19th century with the Royal Pavilion, below, which is even more dazzling inside, full of the most lurid colours, utterly showy - but, again, somehow likeable. And after reading so many Georgette Heyer Regency novels I just had to love it; I kept wondering, "is this the room where the heroine of Regency Buck faints when the Prince tries to kiss her?" Just down the road, the Brighton Pier, where ragtime music drones away on English funfair-type rides. The beach itself - I liked it best when it was moody and stormy weather, but Monday, a bank holiday, it looked almost like the Riviera, and it seemed like half of London was there getting burnt strawberry-red as they sat on their rented deckchairs or ate their rock candy.

I also worked in the coolest archive EVER - which you should all find out about, and if possible, start your own research project that has something to do with English social history between 1937 and the early fifties. But more about that later, I have a blog post planned.

There were only two downers. The first, that I tried to eat fish and chips outside on the beach, where a horde of giant seagulls immediately flocked to me, one landing ON MY HEAD.

The other, and the worse, was that I paid very little for accommodation. You think that sounds good? Nope. It isn't. I stayed in the most depressing, skody, uncomfortable student hostel known to man. It got to the point where I was really unsure how to feel when I left today - part of me was so sad to leave Brighton - the other part was deliriously happy that I was moving on to a hotel with a) a comfortable, non-creaky bed; b) internet; c) full English breakfast; d) ensuite; e) a regard for human comfort.

And here I am now. Taking advantage of that free wi-fi, obviously. In Battle. But I'll tell you more about that another time.

The Royal Pavilion

The Brighton Pier

All taken on the same stormy evening.

Bank holiday Monday - and yes, that's the English sea looking inviting.

I just took this trying to get a photo of some pretty muffins, but I love the way it happened to capture the expressions on the faces of the people walking by.

Metal detector man. I saw him several times on the beach. It must yield something but I thought it was funny.

snapshots, part II

Really old gravestones. The oldest don't have pretty cherubs or crosses, but gruesome looking skulls - fantastic!

Atmospheric light in cathedrals.

Things that I think are funny. Fusion of the old with the new.

War memorials. This is from the memorial to New Zealand soldiers who fought in the world wars. I love it.

Absurd militaristic rituals preserved - hooray!

Blackberries! Most of them much healthier specimens than these, available in public parks, and highly edible.

snapshots, part I

Space for prayer

Stained glass meets Marc Chagall

Sunshine

Statues and flowers, Kew Gardens

Icons

London streets

simple pleasures

This is going to become a bit boring for you, but here it is: I am having a wonderful time in London.

It's been active and busy and I've seen stuff that I've wanted to see for a long time. This weekend it was the Tower of London, the Globe Theatre (from the outside but soon from the inside), and the National Portrait Gallery.

The funny thing is, as much as I've enjoyed those things, what I love most about London is more simple.

I love:

a) London's parks. Yesterday I spent time with a friend from university who lives here now, which in itself made me so happy, but we ended up collapsing onto the grass at St James' Park with exhausted feet and ice creams, and it was possibly the best part of the whole day, regardless of the historical wonders we had seen. And today I simply lay on the grass at the park down the road with a book, in the sun, looking up at the sky and the oak tree above me, feeling like I couldn't ask for anything more in the world. It helps that the weather is my idea of perfection.

b) Just coming across things that seem so novel and exciting to me, that I had no idea were around me. The main examples of this so far are all to do with Austen. It took me four days of studying at the British Library to discover that in the gallery just downstairs was Jane Austen's writing desk, one original volume of her juvenilia, and the original manuscript of Persuasion. On seeing this I just about burst into tears, and I couldn't explain why. The other thing was stumbling, in the National Portrait Gallery today, across the original miniature Cassandra Austen painted of her sister, and the only existing likeness that was taken of Jane Austen. Among the grandeur and the pomp of all these artists and subjects who were trying to impress with bigger or better paintings, this tiny, delicate little piece stood in stark contrast, and reminded me of why I love Austen so much. And the fact that it took me completely by surprise made it even better.

c) Travelling by train and by tube. Don't get me wrong, the tube can be thoroughly unpleasant, especially at rush hour. But it gives me a little satisfied thrill when I jump on and off them like a Londoner, figuring out all the links and changes and timetables. And travelling by overground train is generally less busy and also really rather scenic, if you go far out of central London. I sat on one for half an hour today just gazing out the window and feeling so relaxed.

I'm not saying that it hasn't been great, seeing all these historical and cultural landmarks. They have blown me away. But it's almost like you plan them too much, like you're so busy ticking things off your list that you don't get a chance to take a deep breath and enjoy them. It's not always the case, but it is the danger.

snapshots

I don't really know where to begin. But I am currently sitting in the British Library, waiting for some newspapers to be delivered; I have free wi-fi access and no excuse not to blog about something. So, I am providing you with some snapshots of the last week, which feels like about four days.

Me and Karl Marx, at Highgate Cemetery.

The "Circle of Lebanon" at Highgate Cemetery. To anyone who is going to London - I would highly recommend this. Even if you're not a cemetery-junkie like me.

Tower Bridge. I spent a sunny Saturday in central London with the fantastic couple I'm staying with and their kids. I'd be walking along and wherever I turned my head there'd be some other famous, historical image that I've heard about all my life. We walked around the Tower of London but didn't go inside - that is for next weekend.

Buckingham Palace. Here, of course, I did enter. The Queen told me she liked my t-shirt. I reciprocated.

The flight here ... well, how to describe 30 hours of airports and cramped airplane seats? Thank goodness I had the foresight to purchase one of those inflatable neck-supporting cushions beforehand - on the final twelve-hour leg I actually managed to get some sleep, probably solely because of the cushion and the fact that I was absolutely shattered.

However, I will say that there were some cool elements of the flight. One of them was seeing a lightning storm from above as we flew over Brunei. I don't have words to describe how utterly awesome that was. The other was simply that I travelled to the opposite side of the globe, over soooo many countries. Following the flight path on our personal TV screens was thus pretty cool. My favourite part was flying over a tiny portion of Russia... which took hours.