Always in the Way

Now, I realize that the title seems to be a bit self-deprecating and perhaps inaccurate considering that I am currently visiting a city in which more than 10,000 people live: Everybody is in everybody else’s way pretty much all the time.

However. I was squawked at by a duck trying to cross the sidewalk today at Warwick Castle, and I do believe that you haven’t been “Excuse me!”ed until you’ve been “Excused me!”ed by a duck at a centuries-old castle.

The duck was in the yard; we were on the sidewalk; there were primary school students eating lunch at the tables on the other side of us. The duck was walking alongside our group as we were headed toward the bus, but I guess she got sick of waiting, because she stepped out and informed me that I was in her way and she’d like to cross now, thank you.

Warwick Castle was the first stop on our day trip outside of London today, which provided us jet-lagged college students a full two hours to nap! It was lovely. The castle itself was beautiful, as were the grounds and all of the paintings and various artifacts within. 

If you look at this suit of armor sitting atop the horse statue, you’ll notice that the people who wore this armor… were especially short. The one suit of armor stood barely over 5 feet tall! I’m not a particularly tall individual, but those people would make me feel enormous; I’m sure of it.

I learned quite a bit about trebuchets, something which I was heretofore entirely ignorant of. As far as I was concerned, it was a font on my computer—and I hate to admit it, but I didn’t even know it was properly pronounced [treb-yoo-shay] until quite recently. For those who are unaware, a trebuchet is like a catapult, but uses a sling instead. They are virtually silent and were put together using wooden dowels and wedges so that they could be taken apart and transported to whichever castle was desired for takeover. However, because of how destructive they were, the victims would often throw up a white flag before the trebuchets could even be built.

The second stop on our trip was at Stratford upon Avon, the birthplace (and gravesite, actually) of William Shakespeare. We toured his house, which is still intact. The accompanying picture shows me almost bonking my head on a doorway. I am 5’7”. I never bonk my head on a doorframe. It was kind of an amusing moment for me.

The third stop was at Oxford University, and we toured a few of the colleges, although mainly Christ Church. It was beautiful, and while we were walking through, I kept trying to imagine how it might feel to go to college in such a place. The history there is astounding and immeasurable, and the idea of being immersed in that while studying for a degree is—for me, anyway—unimaginable. As an English major, history is monumentally important, because culture and 'current events' (current being the operative word, of course, when discussing literature) play a huge role in the subtext, or even literal text, of a novel. Sociopolitical commentary is a huge part of much of literature, and while it isn't always clear what's being stated, knowing what was happening at the time of publication is key to fully understanding certain points of a plot--sometimes, not always. Being surrounded by more history than could ever be fathomed by one individual would be a constant reminder of the profound reaches of life and humanity.
Also, attending Oxford is unimaginable for the fact that for non-Englishmen or Europeans, there’s no tuition cap, which means that it’d cost upward 50,000₺. Considering that the current exchange rate is 1.67 US$ to the British ₺? Yeah. No.

When we got back to London, Ms. Jessica and I found a grocery store so that she could find some biscuits (read: cookies); I found fresh butter croissants… so I bought two. =D Honestly, the food here is amazing. They make fabulous sandwiches, and that’s not counting everything else. After we stopped at the hotel briefly, we strolled down to Covent Garden and SoHo so that I could do a little scouting around the area for the sake of my project. What I saw was enlightening—but I won’t share that quite yet. Perhaps tomorrow, after I’ve had a visit to the Library of London and looked into some more formal information. What was super-duper-incredibly exciting—and caused me to do a happy dance in the middle of the street before I got a hold of myself again—was the Bubble-ology shop selling bubble tea. (It’s like a tea latte with massive tapioca pearls in it. It’s one of my most favorite things on the entire planet.) So even though my feet hurt all the way up my calves and I have a blister on the underside of my right second toe… the walk to SoHo was worth every step.

As a side note: If I ever live here or visit again for a longer period of time, I am never, ever, ever getting behind the wheel of a car. Absolutely not. London drivers are absolutely insane. Walking is harrowing enough; I can’t imagine driving here! My goodness! The lines are so narrow that you seriously drive like, six inches from the car next to you, and you park even more closely together than that! AGH! NO. I refuse. I will suffer the ache and walk, thank you.

***

Last night I couldn’t figure out why I was waking up every hour and a half or so until I realized this morning that, being five hours ahead, I was basically taking a series of afternoon naps. In the middle of the night. #Timezones, man. But I seem to be doing alright, in general. I am anticipating getting myself hopelessly lost tomorrow morning when I attempt to get myself to the library on my own, but there are maps all over the place, so hopefully I manage to at least get there. The production of the Lion King musical is tomorrow evening at 7:30, I believe, at the Lyceum. I haven’t a clue where that is, though, because Ms. Jessica couldn’t remember earlier while we were walking. So… with luck I’ll find that, too!

For the record: The first small toe on my right foot (but not my left) is longer than my big toe; so when I walk, it kind of flattens out weird and it’s kind of uncomfortable. I spend a lot more time paying more attention to my feet while walking than I like to. But consequently, I have a blister awkwardly placed on the underside of my toe. But it’s the only blister that I have. And I don’t particularly know what to do with/about it. But I don’t like it. I think it’s from walking on all the super uneven cobblestone outside of London. That’s my guess, anyway.