Home Again, Home Again...

After an incredible three weeks, full of memorable experiences and adventures, I'm back home at last. And it feels good. And odd. All at the same time. It's so quiet here, the temperatures are low with nearly no humidity, and I have room to move in the shower.

But I miss my friends, the architecture, the hustle and bustle, the accent. I have an unusual penchant for tea at 4, and beans for breakfast doesn't seem that odd anymore. But I don't miss the maniacal drivers and I feel like I live every day in a London park...

It's as though time collapsed and I'm back without having left, but then I remember all that I've done and I realize what an incredible summer this has been.

I know I will never be the same because of this experience, and that's exciting. Unlike the trips I've taken for the same amount of time, I lived in London for three weeks with a real mailing address. I called 101 Great Russell Street home, and I'm sure that London will always feel familiar.

And I'll never look at photo opportunities the same way ever again-- after all our assignments that taught me to use settings other than auto on my camera!

So I'm signing off, for now. But I know I'll be off on a traveling adventure again soon. And who knows, maybe I'll blog my experiences! Cheerio!

Endings and Beginnings

"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet, at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
"What's for breakfast," said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"
"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
"It's the same thing," he said.
--From Winnie the Pooh, by A. A. Milne.

Sun. Radiant, glowing, fiery sunshine, strong enough to burn an azure sky across the London skyline...

A trip up to highest heights in a slow-moving all-glass capsule...

A perfect last day...

with just the right soundtrack!

London's calling me back already!

Le Tour et La Foule en France

Ah, Paris. Land of flaky croissants, odorous subways, and unruly crowds.

I spent two and a half days in this city that is starting to feel almost like a second home, because I have had the incredibly good fortune to have both lived here and visited multiple times.

The ding of the subway doors, the two-tone police siren, the smells of baked goods wafting down a side street--they welcome me and let me know I'm in a familiar place.

And every time I see and do new things. This trip, I had lunch with my group at a place I'd never been to before, and learned that the flame statue nearby marked the spot where Princess Diana's car crashed around this time in 1997.

I visited Montmartre and Sacre Coeur for the first time in many years, and gazed down on a city that was both brand new in its technological transformations and still very steeped in centuries of history.

Walking around, I discovered hidden treasures.

I caught the very last metro Saturday night from Place de la Concorde, desperately hoping to make it all the way back to our hostel in Republique.

And I stood amidst crowds to catch a glimpse of the riders as they swooped into Paris in the final stage of the Tour de France. Camera poised high above my head, sun beating down on me with a vengeance after two-and-a-half weeks of rain, I was determined to be there to scream and cheer as the first riders and the peleton went by.

Summer in Paris is an unusual time--many Parisians are out of town, hoping to escape the excessive heat. Except this summer was actually quite cool, by typical weather standards. And so we saw a lot of tourists--heaps and hordes and mobs of them, lined up everywhere we went. Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle, Arc de Triomphe, Sacre Coeur ... if it was a monument in a guide book they were there, and the pushing and shoving eventually became too much Saturday night.

High up on the second floor of the Eiffel Tower, in front of the only operational elevator to head back to the ground, the crowds were out of control. There was no decency, no regard for others, no trust that we would all eventually make it down if we were patient. And after missing three elevators in a row because of people cutting the line and creating unsafe conditions way up in the air, we decided to take the stairs, believing that it was better to push our tired legs a little further and be in control of our ability to get down than to wait parmi la foule.

There are so many wonderful experiences to focus on from this weekend, so I will let the tourists be tourists. Heading off the beaten path has its benefits! Thank you, Paris, for a fantastic weekend!

A Wealth of Stories

From rare books to James Bond, it's been quite a day.

After a photo at Platform 9 3/4, we went to the British Library to see the Treasure Room, perhaps look at some books (though that didn't quite work out for me), and see the Writing Britain exhibit. I now have a British library card, yet another excuse to come back.

I can't even begin to detail the incredible works of creativity and ingenuity that I gazed at for two hours in the Treasures room. Works by Chaucer and Wordsworth, music manuscripts by Ravel and Beethoven, illuminated pages from the Qu'ran and the Haggadah--I even saw Uighur script!

From there, I visited the Writing Britain exhibit--a collection, by type of landscape, of the writings and thoughts on the importance of landscape and geography in British literature dating back to Chaucer. I especially loved the section on the moors, which features works by Emily Bronte, Ted Hughes, Wordsworth, Daphne du Maurier, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and more.

A quote from the exhibit: "Literary encounters with the wild places threaten and sometimes overwhelm, the individual. Divorced from the rational order, humans revert to savagery, and culturally constructed norms seem suddenly fragile and precarious." --Writing Britain, British Library.

I could feel my imagination feeding on the creativity around me--the air pulsing with stories. I wrote down the names of dozens of books to look for when I return home, as well as quotes and thoughts on writing and landscape, especially landscape as character. "How do you write about a place that is disobedient?" --Writing Britain, British Library.

We had a rare day of sunshine today, and warm temperatures, so I opted to walk and see the city at footstep pace. And I had a ways to go--the museum I was headed to turned out to be further than I thought!

This multimedia session wouldn't be complete without another homage to an influential movie franchise...James Bond. The Barbican has an exhibit entitled "Designing 007: 50 Years of Bond Style." From the gold-flecked floor when you first enter, to the stunning outfits and gadgets and jewelry and vehicles and...I could go on and on. It was a day of riches of all kinds, a day that never dies.

Town Girl, Country Girl

I'm a city kid. I grew up in a city, accustomed to the sounds of honks and beeps and vrooming engines, surrounded by buildings.

But I have a secret love of the country. Wide-open spaces, vast panoramas of sky and landscape, air that smells sweet and earthy, all to a soundtrack of birds chirping.

Well, today I got my wish. I visited Highclere Castle in Newbury, filming location and setting of the iTV miniseries "Downton Abbey." From the moment our cab drove up the lane toward the estate, I knew I was in for a scenic treat. Expansive lawns of green grass, lined with enormous trees of all varieties stretch away from the stunning castle...beautiful even on a gray day.

You can visit the gardens, the wood, and trails that lead all around the grounds. Highclere is a pastoral delight for such a city kid like me. Not to mention the opportunity it provides to relive favorite moments from the show as you move from room to room!

Back in London, I remember that I do love the energy and character of the city. And I'm happiest when I have a balance between the two worlds. 

Speaking of worlds, have you ever wondered where to find Neverland? Watch my video and find out!

Reflections on the day

A Story in Five Pictures:

My day:

Salisbury Cathedral--a stunning masterpiece of stone and glass, with hidden stories and surprises throughout.

Sting's house--quiet estate tucked away against a backdrop of farmland, rolling hills, and cottages.

Stonehenge--neolithic feat of stonework finished in 2000 BC, complete with sheep!

Sorry, Have You Got the Time?

There's no excuse for not knowing what time it is over here! Watch my digital video to see some of the clocks I've photographed in and around London and Yorkshire.

Credits:
Text:
Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass. Philadelphia: David McKay, [c1900]; Bartleby.com, 1999. www.bartleby.com/142/.

Music:
"Midnight Blue," by Slikk Tim, from the album "Gutter Guitar." Downloaded from jamendo.com.

Many thanks to Melissa McBride and Brandy Milburn for pointing out several of these clocks in our many walks around London!

Silver Lining

"The next day the rain poured down in torrents again, and when Mary looked out of her window the moor was almost hidden by gray mist and cloud. There could be no going out to-day."

--Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Well, unlike Mary Lennox, we did go out, and what an adventure we had in Kensington Gardens. 

We climbed on a beached pirate ship at the Princess Diana Memorial Playground...

explored beautiful Kensington Palace and the gardens--which brighten up beautifully against the gray sky...

and waded through buckets and boatfuls of water in one form or another. I really enjoyed playing with the ISO settings on my camera to try and capture the motion of the water in the fountains and the rain. In London this summer you'd never have any fun if you stayed indoors when it rained, so we're out and about, with piping hot tea to come home to at the end of the day.

What Is Real?

If every day is an adventure, then I've just had a weekend of odysseys. I've traveled to new places; been on two sets, one for a movie and one for a TV show; and made a new friend in an unexpected place. Ah, the beauty of traveling!

Saturday, I went on the Harry Potter Studio Tour at Leavesden Studios/Warner Bros. I stood in the same sound stages where they filmed the movies, where Daniel Radcliffe and Ralph Feinnes and Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson stood. Props, sets, costumes, creatures and models, all alluringly arranged for everyone to exclaim over and capture in megabytes.

From the grand, breathtaking entrance to the tiniest details--like the fact that every wand box (and there are probably thousands) in Ollivander's shop has a handmade label--the cinematic world came to life. It's fascinating to see how the Gringotts vault car worked, and how a tiny model of a dementor could become so gigantic and terrifying in the third movie. So much care and passion went into every aspect of the films, and it shows. It's astonishing and awe-inspiring. 

Sunday, I took a train up to Thirsk, in the heart of Yorkshire. I wanted to visit the home of my other huge literary/media love: All Creatures Great and Small. Originally heartwarming novels written by a country vet named James Alfred Wight (Alfie), these stories became a TV show with BBC, a play, a new spinoff series, and more. The BBC show had something like 37 million viewers in the US when it aired.

The stories revolve around the life and times of this country vet, as he visits hard-scrabble farms and tackles tough cases. There is a museum dedicated to his life, his work, his writing, and the BBC show, set in the house where Wight lived and worked. There are even actual sets from the show that you can see up close. Gazing up the staircase, even though it only went up a dozen steps or so, I was sure I'd see Tristan or Mrs. Hall coming down, ready with a quick quip. It was quite an experience being on the set of such a beloved show.

Ever since I was a kid, I've wanted to visit Herriot Country. And I wasn't disappointed today. These vast expanses of wild country are carpeted in heather and gorse, with grazing sheep like woolly polka dots on the emerald hillsides. Ruins of medieval castles and abbeys remind you of the history here, and make for interesting afternoon jaunts. Thanks to a friendly Yorkshireman, I got a personal tour of Helmsley Castle, and a good bit of insight into life on the moors as well. 

In his words, "In 20 years, I've never gotten fed up with it. I came here for a weekend, and I never left. How could you leave all this?" And I completely understand. The earthy smell of loam and the intermittent bleating of ewes are enchanting. When locations have only been settings of stories for you, and imagined adventures, they don't even seem real when you're there. I can't wait until my next trip to the Yorkshire moors.

An In-Between Time

It's Friday, the end of the second week, and it was an open day--once I'd completed the assignment, I had the rest of the day to myself, leading into a busy weekend, which would then lead into a busy third and final week.

It's been an interesting time, this second week--I'm not brand new here, yet I'm still not that familiar yet with my surroundings and how to go about living day to day.

I'm surprised by how long things take me, and how confused I can still get by trying to count change for a purchase, or how surprised I am by the cost of things.

I find myself turning inward and wanting to look at the smaller details of day to day, rather than looking at the trip as a whole. Perhaps that's the only way to manage a time like this--moment by moment, minute by minute.

I'm this way about photography as well. I'd far rather spend an hour photographing a raindrop on a flower than attempt to capture throngs observing a street show or a massive and ancient landmark. The simple details in a macro photograph captivate and beckon me to discover how to reproduce them with a camera. These details give a photograph texture and depth. I love macro photography.