Someone send a runner

Before I left I was talking about being in a two week long daze. I felt dizzy all the time and no matter how much food or water I consumed, I felt like I was about to faint. It was like a never ending hangover… an emotional hangover… bad decision induced nausea followed by faint and vague memories of the last few months. That unsettling queasiness disappeared as soon as my plane flew over London. The surreal became my reality as I caught glimpses of Trafalgar Square and Tower Bridge through scattered clouds. Some more clouds gathered, then the clouds cleared again and I could see the Parliament Buildings and Big Ben. Nausea lifted as the plane lowered in London. It was real and it was right.

The plane was full of a variety of groups and people. One rowdy group of men were en route to a golfing trip through Scotland, taking full advantage of airplane alcohol. One old married couple was sitting in front of me. She had a British accent and he had a Canadian accent. I was imagining that they split their time between Vancouver and London, visiting grandchildren from all sides of the family. Joining this assemblage of transcontinental travelers was a sleep deprived and anxious exchange student. Do I belong in this group of global adventurers? By hopping on a plane to take a semester abroad have I joined some kind of exclusive club of people who carry about their business in various places around the world? It’s not that casual for me. I like to think that I appreciate this flight more than the group of men who have been afforded the opportunity to take golfing trips across the globe. Still, it’s a pretty cool group of people to be a part of.

London was a whirlwind tour of a city with lots to see. It was touristy and it was PG. I wandered around with my parents for 2 and a half days, eagerly anticipating the Manchester arrival. Things were huge and things were old. On a fast paced open top bus tour I took in the amazing architecture. Columns, sculptures and statues of men on horses EVERYWHERE. St. Paul’s Cathedral was breathtaking. It almost made me tear up and for those you know me, this is no small feat. Another highlight was the Tower of London. It holds so many cool stories from the medieval times to WWII. We went into the National Art Gallery and saw some jaw dropping art that I just wasn't expecting. I glansed at the map and was shocked to see I was about to wander amongst the art of Monet, Rembrandt, van Gogh, Michelangelo and da Vinci. When checking out a recreation of Shakespeare’s Globe theatre, we kind of stumbled onto another delightful surprise. Just down the road from the Globe, we were taken into the basement of a building where an excavation of the Rose Theatre was happening. The real Rose Theatre, pre-Globe Theatre. A layer of protective water was preserving the battered wood where Shakespeare the actor stood before becoming Shakespeare the writer. Dim red lights lit the stage. The atmosphere was quiet, damp and spooky.

I met a girl who was half Indian, half German and the daughter of a German ambassador. Think about it, this is crazy close to that day dream I had about meeting the son of an Indian ambassador and Polish actress and spending Christmas in a Palace in India. So they are out there, these hybrid children of ambassadors (like Spock?!), I just have to look for them.

Remember that challenge I was talking about? And making an active effort to challenge myself? Well, my first challenge was successfully met in Pizza form on the last night in London. We sat down in the pizza place and were greeted by an Italian hostess and served by a large and intimidating Italian waiter. When we asked if the pizzas were individual sized or for sharing we got the snarky reply “Well, I think they are individual but people *clears throat* not from around here seem to think you can share them.” Then, when asking about the toppings on one of the pizzas, he warned me that this particular pizza was quite spicy. A challenge has never been more perfectly presented in front of me. He let the toothpick limbs deceive him and underestimated my eating capabilities. I ordered the pizza, along with his largest Italian beer to wash it down. It was delicious, spicy and huge. Within minutes the large Italian man was clearing my clean plate as I coughed to hide my watering eyes and burning lips. I drank the last few drops beer and didn’t dare ask for a water. Challenge met, and exceeded.