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Galway and the Aran Islands
October 29th, 2008 | Uncategorized
Ireland: land of people who love green and Guinness! A quick Ryanair flight and a coach ride and we were in a whole new country in less than the amount of time it would take to drive from Santa Barbara to San Francisco. Our first destination way Galway, most known for its music scene, specifically the trad-pubs. But on the way, as true English majors, we stopped at a few literary landmarks. First stop: Coole Lake, home and grounds of Lady Gregory who was a good friend of Yeats and opened the Abbey Theatre with him. The grounds were beautiful, and we all searched madly for the famous swans that so inspired Yeats. No swans to be found, just lots of mossy things.
Our next stop was Yeat’s impressive home, Thoor Ballylee. It is an ancient Normon tower that reminded me of a tall, round sandcastle tower–the product of an overturned bucket. We explored the rooms and followed that infamous winding stair up, up to the top of the tower where we were greeted with a spectacular view of the surrounding country. Liam helped a few of us revert to childhood as we skipped rocks and played Pooh sticks off the bridge over the little stream. It is indeed a privilege to visit the home of the person whose book many of us carry in our backpack here; an honor to tread the stairs that inspired him years ago.
In Galway, we stayed at the number one ranked hostel in Ireland, possibly Western Europe. Although its name, Sleepzone, was a bit deceptive considering Galway’s active nightlife scene, it was a comfortable and clean place to stay. Most of the short weekend was spent exploring the quaint little city. An impressive Farmers Market provided plentiful souvenirs and fresh local food; a short walk took you right to the coast, hardly Butterfly Beach, but breathtaking with its mossy cliffs, grey fog, and chilly winds; and traditional pubs offered shepherds pie, oysters, live music, and unforgettable moments like dancing a jig with the locals.
On Sunday, the group took a coach and a ferry to the Aran Islands. We rented bicycles and spent the day exploring the small island’s raw beauty. We were blessed with perfect weather, some of us fair ones even got a little sunburned. I really can’t express in words how breathtaking it was, so I will let the pictures speak.
Woodbrooke
October 29th, 2008 | Uncategorized
England Semester isn’t all exploring cobblestone streets of great cities and gorging on world-class theatre–there is also literature to read, essays to write, and class times to discuss. And that’s what Woodbrooke is for. It is a Quaker Study Centre 10 miles outside of Birmingham, but so removed in atmosphere that it could be on a whole different island–an oasis of peace where productivity levels are at the maximum. It is a safe place to recharge batteries from the hectic pace of the cities, yet at the same time new kinds of stress arise. There is of course, the stress of four papers due in one week, and I’m sure everyone here made use of the gracious dawn deadlines at least once. But more significantly, there is the emotional stress that comes from confronting huge issues in the literature we read and the plays we see in a very short time span. Good theatre places you in someone else’s shoes–a Scottish soldier in Iraq, a woman buried up to her chest in dirt, or a hopelessly depressed and suicidal man. And since almost all of theatre we see is great, that’s a lot of shoes to walk around in. The blessing is that here on England Semester, we don’t walk alone. Peers and professors become friends who become family: a tight support system where it is safe and healthy to process and experience these heavy things.
Thankfully, there are breaks from the stress. Namely, teatime. Tea becomes as essential to EngSemers as breathing, and sometimes more essential than sleep. Thankfully, our Quaker friends agree, so we have three tea times a day. In fact, sometimes it seems all we do at Woodbrooke is eat. Breakfast (and English breakfasts mean business), Morning Coffee with biscuits (aka cookies), Lunch (complete with a cheese tray and dessert), Afternoon Tea (more caffeine; more biscuits), Dinner (again, with the cheese and dessert), and Night Tea (you guessed it, biscuits). There was also a memorable homemade guacamole night, complete with a riveting game of Snooker on TV.
When we aren’t eating, teaing, or studying, there is somehow time for recreation. This could be a walk to the nearby Cadbury Chocolate Factory or a stroll around the beautiful grounds. For those who only leave the building when forced by a false fire alarm, online tv marathons of shows like The Office, Pushing Daisies, House, Madmen, and (for shame) America’s Next Top Model provide excellent sources of entertainment. For the competitive types, (most of us are) card games like Hearts and Dutch Blitz or more active sports such as ping pong, badmitten, volleyball, and even boat races around the little bond on ground are rousing for both participants and spectators.
It’s appropriate that Quakers refer to each other as Friends, because this centre has been a significant place of bonding for the group. Through shared study-stress, emotional trials, competition, tea-addictions, sleep-depravity, laundry frustrations, and most of all, a shared passion for the English language and theatre, our group grows closer every day. Only a group of 20 English majors could carry a rousing discussion provoked by one grammatical slip about how “verbing weirds words” for a half hour and then seamlessly move to the great unanswerable but impossible to ignore questions of faith, doubt, love, revenge, life and death that fills our literature and consumes our thoughts. Shakespeare quotations are as frequent at the dinner table as a request to “pass the salt”. Class discussions carry on to mealtime and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. The things we learn together are not facts to ace on a test; they shape, stretch, and bond us–all over a cup of tea, as it should be.
Quiet Times, Damp Climes
September 14th, 2008 | Travel
After the urban hustle and bustle of Edinburgh, we arrived by bus at the lush and picturesque landscape of the Lake District. (The Lake District is essentially England’s version of a national park, excepting that people can set up permanent residence there.)
We made our home at Rydal Hall, an amazing historic estate owned by the Church of England and surrounded by vibrant and verdant greenery as far as the eye could see. The scenic rural setting provided an opportunity for the group to unwind a little after all of the stress and claustrophobia of our previous stay in a dense, urban environ
Classes more or less began during our stay at Rydal: a drawing room on the ground level was set aside just for that purpose. The estate made for a perfect study environment, with a library full of old books (chiefly theology, but with a sizable literature section) and the smell of leather and old wood. Though our group’s voracious appetite for internet connectivity proved somewhat troublesome for Rydal’s bandwidth, the library nonetheless proved an extremely popular hangout for our students as they read, wrote, facebooked, or played Mafia.
Though we saw no plays during our stay in the Lake District, we found various ways to keep busy during our free time. A short hike to Grasmere would take one to Dove Cottage, former residence of William Wordsworth.
For an English major, this sort of thing is a pretty big deal — to be able to visit the site at which the author composed his works, and to see the landscape that inspired him, is a rare privilege.
In addition, Rydal’s incredible gardens, and the lush greenery surrounding them, provided the means for any number of pleasant afternoon activities: a cup of tea from Rydal Hall’s own tea shop, a rousing game of croquet on the lawn, or a stroll down into the village for some shopping.
Eventually, our time at the Lake District came to an end, and we somewhat reluctantly gathered our things and bid farewell to Rydal Hall as we set out for York. Now, York is an interesting place. It has the rich history and culture of a medieval city, the quaint charm of a small cozy town, and the shopping and dining opportunities of a metropolis. Museums, ruins, tea shops, and an open-air market (and £1 sandwiches!) are just some of the things offered by this big little town.
Though we were only in York for three days, we enjoyed it immensely. High tea at Betty’s (a casual yet refined café) was quite an experience, and while this blogger in particular did not try any of the teas, he can testify to the excellence of their coffees and pastries. Some of us went into the city square and browsed the open-air market and its array of cheeses, produce, and smoked fish, and had a bit of a group picnic out in a small park. Some explored the remnants of the old city wall, some gorged on the wallet-friendly fare at Mr. Sandwich, and all had just a fantastic time of things.
Just about the only thing worthy of complaint at this stage of the trip was the weather. We went into this semester with the knowledge that England was a very damp place, but that didn’t really sink in until a couple of days passed during which it rained from breakfast ’til supper. It rarely rained very heavily, but instead there was just a kind of steady, prolonged drizzling. This would have been rather depressing, if not for the beautiful and exciting surroundings (and the homework to keep us busy). Things seem to be brightening up for the time being, however.
And so, recharged by our time spent in the quieter parts of England, dampened by the rain yet still eager to experience more of this great land, we feel ready to tackle the metropolitan mayhem once again in London. Rydal and York will be missed, but there is much of England that we’ve yet to see.
Edinburgh–Fringe, Food, and Fellowship
September 12th, 2008 | Travel
“Travel is more than a seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.”–Miriam Beard
Three weeks ago, twenty five students, two professors, one techie/spiritual mentor, and one four year old left America with full suitcases and great expectations. After a 10 hour flight on which almost no one slept (could have been the anticipation or the seats that only reclined two inches) and a quick connection from Heathrow to Edinburgh, we arrived at Beresford Hotel, our Scottish home. Truly, it was more of a home than a hotel. Our group took over the entire place, all 12 rooms. The breakfast room became the classroom, the foyer became the Internet hallway, and the little bits of floor space outside the rooms became mini-gyms for 8 Minute Abs sessions. More than anything, it was a quiet haven to reboot after long days full of food, sight-seeing, shopping, navigating public transportation, and of course, theatre. Lots of theatre.
Edinburgh was particularly electric with the last week of the Fringe festival rolling into the International Festival when we were there. For the Fringe, every public space, business, and restaurant in the city with usable space temporarily transforms into a venue. This is necessary to accommodate the thousands of plays, dance pieces, children’s shows, comedy shows, and concerts available. To say the choices are overwhelming is obviously an understatement. We had 8 performances booked as a group and a long list of reviews and recommendations to choose from for ourselves. On day one, most of the group ended up at a one-man dramatic recitation of Beowulf. Jet-lag and uncomfortable seats aside, the general consensus was respect for the effort. The night’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Footsbarn in a big top tent on Calton Hill overlooking the city certainly made up for any theatrical insufficiencies. The gypsy caravan troupe gave a cirque-style performance worthy of the love-acrobatics and magical mischief of Shakespeare’s text.
Other theatrical highlights included the Globe’s natural and emotional Romeo and Juliet on an outdoor stage in the picturesque Royal Botanic Gardens and a genre shattering ad-rap-tation of Much Ado About Nothing by an energetic group from Chicago called Funk It Up About Nothin’ where the Bard met groovy DJ beats for an unforgettable performance—don’t be surprised to hear an Eng Sem-er humming “Dingleber-ray” years later. However, we won’t likely be singing any tunes from I Went to the House But Did Not Enter. Imagine a barbershop quartet monotonously singing some of the most abstract poetry every written while packing and unpacking an entire room. There you have it. We went to the play house and wished we hadn’t entered. It’s all a matter of perspective, now we realize how great the great performances we see truly are.
So what were we doing when we weren’t in the theatre? Well it seems that most of life here is centered around meal times. Every morning starts with the option of a full English breakfast: tea or coffee, juice, cereal, yogurt, toast (cold, for proper butter to bread ratios), eggs scrambled or poached, bacon, sausage, beans, and a fried tomato. We usually find lunch on the cheaper side of things. The Scots will deep fry just about anything, including candy bars which I highly recommend. The Potato Bar was also a filling favorite with over 30 toppings for baked potatoes. Dinner options are just about endless in cultural melting pots like Edinburgh—Italian, Indian, Greek, Lebanese, Chinese, Japanese, French, Tapas, and more, from the most posh restaurant to the tiniest hole in the wall pub.
Most of the time between meals and productions was spent finding our way from restaurant to theatre to restaurant. Edinburgh was described to us by a Scot as a wee-big city and we found this to be true. With a good pair of shoes and a detailed street map you can walk almost anywhere you need to be in the city. But the buses are an experience on their own—they pass within inches of each other at terrifying speeds as graceful as you please. The pedestrians live right on the edge as well. It seems to be a mark of a local to cross busy streets before the crosswalk sign turns green, like life-size Frogger but with only one life. There’s really no such thing as “getting lost” in a city like Edinburgh unless you have somewhere to be. Every cobblestone street has something to explore and there are always convenient landmarks, the Castle for instance. Yes, a castle smack dab in the middle of a city on a hill. It’s quite a sight. I never failed to double take every time I turned a corner and caught a glimpse, although it has become progressively more of a challenge to not grow desensitized to the awe inspiring history and beauty surrounding us here. For instance, most hotels and pubs were founded before America was even discovered. Perspective check! And Sunday services in world famous cathedrals like the St. Mary’s, the York Minster, or St. Paul’s bring “church” to a whole new level.
And that’s the heart of traveling and the purpose of this semester. The experience of watching a great production is only completed in the discussions of the whats and whys that follow; a delicious dinner is just a meal without the fellowship of friends who become family; the experience of living next door to a castle is only beneficial when you allow the perspective to penetrate into your ideas of life. Every too-quickly-gone day here we must all make an effort to be fully present and aware, to soak up the lessons and beauty and truth every moment offers.
Cheers.
Edinburgh bound
August 14th, 2008 | Travel
On August 19 we will depart these shores for Edinburgh. We’ll fly to London Heathrow, arriving on August 20th, and then we’ll fly to Edinburgh. Some of us plan on seeing theatre at the Fringe in Edinburgh prior to sleeping. And then it’s 10 days of thrilling theatre, trips to the Castle, and wanders through Princes Street Gardens. England Semester starts with a bang!