I got us to the money place! ...You mean the bank?

Day 9

Class today involves watching The Queen which I enjoy. We talk about how it fits into the Hollywood screenplay structure. That Syd Field knows his stuff. Too bad his “paradigm” has sucked the creativity out of Hollywood.

After class I head to my interview for my internship. I start walking, get so lost (what else is new) and end up in a mews (an alleyway or cul-de-sac.) Granted, this is where I’m supposed to be, but it certainly doesn’t look like it. All I see are warehouse back entrances and gruff looking construction workers. I told George about this moment later on and he said I was just disappointed that I didn’t get any cat-calls. That must be it. So I finally wander to the right place and have a chat with the lady inside and realize that this is exactly what I do not want to do for an internship. And I panic. More on that later.

I meet the group at the New Diorama Theatre where we see a fringe show called Elevator, directed by Rachel Parish, a UGA graduate. It is about 2 young teens who get stuck in an elevator and die. Spoiler alert! Sorry. It was pretty fantastic. We get a chance to talk to Rachel and the actors a bit after the show.

I’m feeling sort of sickly (like everyone else on this trip. We have all shared this same cold) so I head to bed.

LONDON, WHAT?

Dear London. Why do you have so many rats with wings? WHAT?

What Was Up With the Flying Monkeys?

Day 8

Class with George. They all sort of run together. I think this is the second part to his lecture. I’m trying/not trying to think about this paper we have to write soon. Not excited.

After class, a few of us head to a terrifying yet magical place called Primark. Located on the aforementioned Oxford Street, this place is a department store… but the only way to describe it is to say imagine Black Friday at the mall. Then multiply the amount of people by 5 and exponentially raise the amount of crazy. I fight my way through yelling women and purchase 3 camis for a pound each. Yes. A pound. And sunglasses, for a pound. And tights for 2 pounds. Are you getting the idea? This place is crazy intense. But I love it and have to come back.

At 5:30, we meet as a group at the National Theatre where we saw London Assurance for a tour of the facility. Katie accurately dubs it “the Disneyland of theatre” and I couldn’t agree more. The place has three theatres of varying sizes and runs it’s shows on a repertory system meaning that each theatre has about 3 shows running in it at one time. “How do they do that?” you may ask. Well, in one of the theatres, there is an L shape design so the set for one of the shows pushes in one piece to a storage unit to the left of the stage, another set pushes into a unit behind the stage, and another set is kept in the ridiculously high fly system. But once the wagon is rolled onto the stage for the rolling sets, you can’t tell because the floor is lowered down so that it looks like it is built directly onto the floor. (If all of this means nothing to you, just skip it. If you are drooling by this point, keep reading.) There are various practice rooms with identical dimensions to the 3 stages so that actors can very easily and quickly transfer their work to the actual stage. They have a set construction room and a painting room and a costume room and a props room and a…..

I would give anything to work in this place. They run on a 54 MILLION POUND budget (81 million dollars). And 35% of that comes from the government. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

On the balcony of the National Theatre before the show.

After the tour we see Thomas Middleton’s Women Beware Women which leaves much to be desired. While the acting was decent, the plot was dry, the language heavy, and the direction a little weak. The last scene however, in which all of the dialogue is cut and about 12 deaths occur in the span of five minutes while the entire stage is spinning and there are black angels crawling all over the set was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen. If the show had had that sort of feel throughout, I might not have almost fallen asleep at multiple points during the 3 hours.

LONDON, WHAT?

Dear London. I understand that you lack rolling hills. But must you create your own by the sidewalks? WHAT?

It doesn't really rain in London

Day 7

Somehow I manage to sleep til 3. Yes, 3 pm. Clearly my body is still not quite over jetlag. Nick and I have been dying to go to a market, so we head to Dover Street Market. Correction: we head to what we think is Dover Street Market. After getting thoroughly lost and turned around, we find the building it is supposed to be in, but it looks like it hasn’t been open in years. On the long trek back to the flat, it starts raining. Shockingly enough this is the only time we have been here where it has really rained. (Blogging from real time Day 15. This statement still holds true. The Londoners are very confused at this lack of precipitation.)

A group of us end the evening watching 10 Things I Hate About You with Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles on Nicole’s laptop. Rather unproductive day overall. But I got to see Heath Ledger sing "Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You", so that redeemed it.

LONDON, WHAT?

Dear, London. I don't have words. WHAT?

Hummus on a Hula Hoop

Day 6

Considering the fact that yesterday was the longest day known to man, I sleep in until about noon. Nick and I find out that the FA Cup final is at 2:30, so we grap some brunch (bagel with cream cheese and sun-dried tomatoes. Why have I never thought of this before???) and head for Fulham. The first pub we try is so packed that I end up straddling the door jam and not being able to see the match at all. Nick says the guy beside him smells. So we move on. A little ways down the street is a quieter bar that clearly converts to a half swanky, half sketch dance club at night. Katie meets us there and we watch the rest of the match. To the extreme joy of all of the blue-clad Chelsea fans, they snag the title and the streets fill with cheering.

Even the police officers record the moment because such fandom must be documented.

I can only equate it to SEC football in fan intensity. Try riding the tube after a match. Then you’ll see.

Later that evening we meet up with Ryan and Bree to tour Tate Modern which is having some sort of anniversary celebration and is therefore open late. My favorite quote of the night is the moment Katie walks into the Andy Warhol Cow room

and says, “I suddenly remember why I hate modern art.” The place is pretty bizarre, but has some really cool stuff. Like a giant outlet plug.

Unfortunately my camera battery dies about a quarter of the way through, so pictures are minimal.

LONDON, WHAT?

In keeping with the modern art thing, we'll go with something postmodern looking.

Dear London. You tricked me. I thought this was a giant coffee mug. And then it wasn't. WHAT?

George, you've been sick for a week!

Day 5

Longest blog post yet. Be ready.

8:30am. Meet in front of the AIFS office and meet Russell, our new favorite man. He is our tour guide for our day trip to Leeds Castle and Canterbury. We couldn’t have found a better guide. Russell is super intense and knows everything about everything and is an all-around funny guy.

This is Russell.

So first he leads us through some of London that we didn’t see on our first trip around. There’s press huddled around parliament due to the hung parliament.

An ominous looking Big Ben clock tower.

And The National Portrait Gallery.

We ride to Leeds Castle first, a beautiful place where all of us ladies have decided to get married. Since we do not have many thousands of pounds each, we have decided to all get married on the same day and be each other’s bridesmaids. We also found a wedding dress shop nearby so all we lack is a groom. Well… 11 grooms. But no matter!

The castle is interesting because it feels like a time warp.

It is so old, but is still in use and was purchased by an American woman in the 1930s, so some of the rooms have memorabilia from the queens of the 1300s who lived there, while other rooms have Lady Bailey’s 1930s decor. My favorite room is the one in which the Camp David accords were signed.

The gardens at Leeds are almost more breathtaking than the castle itself, fully in bloom and vibrant with color.

There are also peacocks. We are not sure why. One of them attacked Nicole! It was quite terrifying (for Nicole) but humorous (for us). She should have read the signs.

Oh yes, vicious geese as well.

The gardens end up at a hedge maze, which is highly infuriating to me because I have absolutely no sense of direction. After getting thoroughly lost, the guy sitting at the center of the maze has pity on us and tells us how to get to the center. The maze then leads to a grotto with “atmospheric lighting” according to the sign, but I just feel like I’m on Legends of the Hidden Temple.

Which of these things does not belong? If you guessed LED lit cave, then you would be correct.

Off to Canterbury! Another hour on the road in our bus and we arrive in quaint little Canterbury.
We grab lunch and head into the Cathedral (where picture are allowed.)
Russell tells us all about Thomas Beckett and how he was brutally murdered
and where his memorial is. (or was...the candle represents where it used to stand.)
He even makes us walk up the stairs on our knees like pilgrims to Beckett’s memorial would have hundreds of years ago.

After the tour, we break to explore Canterbury a bit. I see a sign that I can’t pass up, because my roommate from back home told me she would disown me if I did. So Erin and I sit down to tea and scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. This is for you, Megan!
Can we say heavenly? Scones in the U.S. and scones in England= totally different.

After a long ride back, one would think that I would be ready to call it a day. False. Ashley and I decide it is time to hit up Oxford Street. Shopping capital of London, baby! This street goes on forever and everything is always crowded! But it is certainly an experience. I don’t buy anything…this time.

My feet are killing me by this time, so I head back to the flat, get something to eat and relax for a bit. ...Until it’s time to go to The Rocket! The Rocket is like home away from home, a piece of Athens across the Atlantic. It’s a crazy little bar with ridiculous American music and a young, rowdy crowd. (I’m technically blogging from somewhere around day 14, and let me just say, the security guard Paul knows all of us by name. He’s a really cool guy.) Since it is a Tuesday, there are not that many people there, so we are the only ones dancing. That attracts attention, and people start taking pictures of our mad dance skills. But mostly Jordan. That boy can move! He’s definitely the favorite there.

LONDON, WHAT?
Dear London. False advertising is wrong. Way to break a southern girl's heart. WHAT?

Sorry, sorry!

Day 4

10a.m. First day of class. George rambles on about the structure of plays and films. Gotta love script analysis. But we’re in London, so hey! So after class, I have a jacket potato (new British fav) with chili and cheese, soooo delicious, then meet at St. Paul’s Cathedral for a tour.

Unfortunately we aren’t allowed to take pictures inside the cathedral, but it is absolutely beautiful. I choose, after the tour, to brave the 500+ stairs to the top of the dome. Precarious? Yes. Dizzying? Yes. Totally worth it? Absolutely. (pictures coming soon! They weren’t taken on my camera.)

We decide to stay for the sung Eucharist. Incense, choir boys, and Latin chants make me realize that the Church of England is a little bit much for me. But now I can say that I have taken communion in the cathedral where Princess Diana was married. Once again, famous by proxy.

After a full day of religion and history, we are starving. We head to Pizza Express, which we believe to be a fast food joint but turns out to be a classy, classy place. Who knew that in London, pizza is fine dining?

LONDON, WHAT?

Dear London. Your ads confuse me to no end. WHAT?

Maturity in London...ha.

Day 3

I’m 20!!!!!!!!!! Today May 12^th, I leave my teenagehood behind and enter into adulthood. To try to prove my maturity to myself and others, I venture with Nick to the British Museum.

After getting lost (because Nick didn’t know the way) and walking in a large rectangle around the museum, we finally find it. I’m surprised it took us as long as it did.

I mean, it is a rather imposing building with a gazillion (5) floors and who knows how many rooms and exhibits. So we walk through

Egypt: The thing from Aladdin!!!

Greece: Look! Actors!

China: This man was not pleased with Nick’s museum behavior.

And this really cool African money exhibit: The inflation was so bad at one point that their one hundred trillion dollar bill couldn’t even buy a loaf of bread.

After getting thoroughly lost inside the building (we never found Japan…) we head back to the flat, get some dinner (I cooked! I’m feeling so domestic,) and head over to the National Theatre for our first West End show, London Assurance with Mark Addy and Fiona Shaw. Written by Dion Boucicault in the 1800s, I didn’t know if I would like it, but it was absolutely hilarious. Great pick, George.

We attempt to go out after the show, but then we discover something devastating about this lovely city: everyone goes to bed early. So early!!! The pubs close at midnight, grocery stores close at 10, and everything else closes at 5. This is a problem. So we decide to have a flat get together. Fun times.

LONDON, WHAT?

Dear, London. Scientology? I thought better of you. WHAT?