Europe Adventure. Day 32, 33 & 34.
Written in my dorm room on day 179 of College Adventure.
I woke up early at the hostel in Bath and took a nice shower, then went down for a typical hostel breakfast. Y'know, corn flakes and tea. Then I walked down the street to the spot where the tour buses supposedly picked people up. I was early, and it didn't look particularly like a bus stop, which made me nervous. It was more like a cute little outdoor seating area in the middle of an almost traffic circle. I sat down on a bench next to a young man named Johanas. He had a thick accent I didn't quite recognize and I can't remember now where he said he was from. I want to say somewhere in Northern Europe, but I think that's wrong. He told me he didn't have a ticket to see Stonehenge, but was hoping there would be room on the bus anyway. Once the bus arrived, unmistakably decorated with a picture of Stonehenge, there were quite a few more people gathered around. I said goodbye to Johanas in case there were no tickets available for him and got on the bus. Thankfully, there was room and he filed in after everyone else.
On the bus I sat next to a girl named Emily, who I believe was from somewhere in New England. She was yet another college graduate out seeing the world, and was staying in a bed and breakfast in Bath. She said she liked to have more personal space and quiet, which is why she wasn't doing hostels. She had never really considered couchsurfing, but I think I may have convinced her to. A little more than an hour later, we were at Stonehenge.
At first it seems slightly disappointing, pulling into a big parking lot next to more than a few other tour buses, with the only thing to see a boring looking visitor center. Once we got our tickets and walked through the gates, however, there it was. Stonehenge. You've all seen the pictures. It's pretty big, kind of interesting to look at. A bunch of rocks, stuck in the ground. We couldn't go close to them, which I felt disappointed about at first. Then I realized how ugly all my pictures would be if all the people were walking around in them. Oh, and the stones could get messed up somehow, I guess.
I listened to the audioguide that came free with the ticket for about one minute before I decided it wasn't worth it and concentrated on snapping some good photos. All of which are lost now, as you probably already know. It still makes me sad, and not really because of Stonehenge, but because of the pictures I had of Johanas, Emily and me. I would like to have that to remember them by, because I really liked them.
Those pictures were not lost until recently, though, and there was something much more important that I misplaced that day. My ticket back to London. I probably left it on the bus to Bath the day before, actually, but I didn't notice until I was back at the hostel picking up my bag. I got to the bus station with about half an hour to spare and got in line at the ticket desk. After about fifteen minutes I was at the front of the line and I explained my situation to the man, hoping he would be able to use my information to look up the ticket I had purchased. The bus at that time was sold out, he told me when I said I would buy another one if he couldn't find mine. I felt like crying. I had to get back in time to see The Lion King musical, and that meant I needed to be on that bus.
The man was very helpful. He looked through all the information online trying to find a match for my ticket. He used the exact time I purchased it, where I had purchased it, the total price of the round trip, and found nothing. He even called the bus station in London to see if they had a record of it. It was almost as though I had never ordered the ticket. Finally, a little while after the bus was meant to be leaving, he told me my best bet was to talk to the bus driver and see if there was any extra seats. The bus was late and hadn't even arrived. I was trying so hard not to cry.
The bus driver let me on the bus, for another 25 euro, which was the price of the round trip ticket originally. I was a mix of relieved and horribly exhausted. I slept on the bus and got back to London with just enough time to get to the theater in time for The Lion King. I even had the time to duck into a convenience store and buy some strawberries and gluten free ginger cookies, which I ate in the theater before the musical started. I wish I had not been so tired. I had a hard time enjoying the show. It was beautiful, I remember that much. A spectacle, for sure, with amazing costumes and acrobatics and sets. I knew the story and all of the songs, which made it a little too easy to doze off near the end. I regret that to this day, but mostly because of the shear amount of money I spent on the ticket.
Dead on my feet, I took the long metro ride back to Hounslow and arrived at Sean's apartment. I met the other couchsurfer who was staying, a girl named Amal who was from France. She had plans to get an apartment in London. After talking with Sean and Amal for an hour or so I went to bed.
I slept in late the next day. I needed the sleep, but it meant that my plans for the day needed to be rearranged slightly. Instead of going to The London Dungeon and then Matilda, I was going to Matilda first, since it was mid-afternoon, and then if I had time I would do The London Dungeon afterward. I had some crumpets and jam as well as a bowl of cereal, took a good long shower and headed out into the rain. Rain doesn't stop people in London. Of course it wouldn't. Still, I was amazed by the umbrellas all around, all colors and sizes. I tried in vain to get a good picture; it was hard because of wetness and the gloom.
I got to Cambridge Theater, where Matilda was playing, and got in line with all of the young children and their teachers and parents. It was one of my favorite musicals of all time, and I think that has something to do with it being one of my favorite stories. Who doesn't love a story about a brilliant little girl with magical powers? Add songs to that and I fall in love. It was well done and the actors of the children were all amazingly talented. I was very impressed.
On the way to the London Dungeon after the show I stopped and had a yogurt and some cookies. I got a little lost trying to find the London Dungeon, which is surprising. It is literally right next to The London Eye, so you'd think it would be hard to miss. I just kept looking for it on signs and street maps and it wasn't there, and no one I asked seemed to know what I was talking about. Of course they wouldn't. It's not something locals would know anything about. It's way too touristy for that.
I have to give this one piece of advice. If you are tired and have a splitting headache, don't go to The London Dungeon. Not even if you bought a ticket days before and probably won't have any other time to use it. You will most likely have to wait in a very long queue (in the rain) and then once you get inside you will continue to be in line for what feels like miles. And it smells. Like a dungeon, really. They did that well. I can still vividly remember that smell. It makes me want to gag, a bit. Not good for headaches.
Still, it was an interesting experience. I remember chatting with some people in line, laughing at the creepy signs on the walls, the living roaches in cages, the door made out of flexible material that was continuously punched in my some fake hulking monster that was on the other side, and the people in costumes playing with real rats which we got to pet. Then the actual tour started. We took a stroll through the grimiest parts of London's history and folklore, from Anne Boleyn to Sweeney Todd. I mostly enjoyed it, but my headache continued to get worse and the smell never went away. Once I got put in a cage, which I liked because I got to sit down.
I ate the last of the snacks I had packed once I was out of the tour. They consisted of a banana, a yogurt, and two cookies. I also drank some water, but it wasn't enough to sooth my migraine. I got on the metro back to Hounslow. Sean and Amal weren't there, so I had some quiet time to myself. I packed my stuff, ate some leftover pasta and went straight to bed.
The next day I left Sean's apartment for the last time. He was sleeping on the couch when I grabbed all my food from the fridge. Moving as silently as I could I made him an origami crane out of scrap paper and wrote a quick thank you note, and then I was out the door. I had a lot of food and a list of places I needed to see in London before I left. I started with the Tower of London and Tower Bridge. I just walked by and took a bunch of pictures. Some of the photos of Tower Bridge were perfectly timed so that there was a red double decker bus right in the center of the bridge. You'll never know if that's true, since they are all gone.
I took a bus to St. Paul's Cathedral and took some more pictures. I was so unimpressed with nice looking buildings at that point. It was the last day of the trip and I just wanted more time to leave the city and see more of smaller places, the hidden beauties. I was done with churches and famous spots. I started to get a stomach ache, sitting in front of the cathedral and snacking. I had a large amount of food and felt obligated to eat it. I spent the next hour or so in a cafe, at a table as close to the bathroom as I could find, sitting with my head in my hands.
I eventually felt somewhat better, so I got up and headed to a smaller church that Nina had told me did a free tour. Sadly, I forgot that it was Sunday and churches do churchy things on Sundays and don't give tours of the neighborhood. I took the metro from there to Victoria Station, where I waited in a long line just to turn in my Oyster Card. There were crowds of people, as usual.
The bus and ferry trip to Dublin was long. I remember being impressed by the size and comfort of the ferry, but I was also so tired that I would rather have had a nice bed instead of trying to find a couch that wasn't taken. I definitely had a couple cricks in my neck after that night. I got up to go to the bathroom and someone took my couch, so I slept for the last hour on a very small chair. I sat next to a very nice young Irish woman on the bus who was going home after visiting a relative in London. I would have liked to keep in touch, but she wasn't the type of person to use the internet, and didn't even have an email. Sadly, I don't even remember her name, just her smile and how incredibly tall she was. She also liked donuts, and got one when we stopped at a rest stop. She had never heard of a Boston Cream.
That was the last leg of my Europe Adventure, and I spent the rest of it in various airports, which I bet you've heard enough about. Especially since my most common activity in airports was drinking tea and writing this blog. I did a lot of both of those things on that trip. One funny thing was that there were people trying to sell me Irish Whiskey to take home with me in the Dublin airport, and offering me samples which I kindly refused. It is such a different mentality in Ireland; none of them ever considered I was underage in my country.
I got back to Boston, and then just five short days later I set off on my next adventure: Lesley University. You'll probably hear a little more about that in days to come. Or at least about how I recently decided to stop going after only one year. Typical me, never able to stay in one place.
On the bus I sat next to a girl named Emily, who I believe was from somewhere in New England. She was yet another college graduate out seeing the world, and was staying in a bed and breakfast in Bath. She said she liked to have more personal space and quiet, which is why she wasn't doing hostels. She had never really considered couchsurfing, but I think I may have convinced her to. A little more than an hour later, we were at Stonehenge.
At first it seems slightly disappointing, pulling into a big parking lot next to more than a few other tour buses, with the only thing to see a boring looking visitor center. Once we got our tickets and walked through the gates, however, there it was. Stonehenge. You've all seen the pictures. It's pretty big, kind of interesting to look at. A bunch of rocks, stuck in the ground. We couldn't go close to them, which I felt disappointed about at first. Then I realized how ugly all my pictures would be if all the people were walking around in them. Oh, and the stones could get messed up somehow, I guess.
I listened to the audioguide that came free with the ticket for about one minute before I decided it wasn't worth it and concentrated on snapping some good photos. All of which are lost now, as you probably already know. It still makes me sad, and not really because of Stonehenge, but because of the pictures I had of Johanas, Emily and me. I would like to have that to remember them by, because I really liked them.
Those pictures were not lost until recently, though, and there was something much more important that I misplaced that day. My ticket back to London. I probably left it on the bus to Bath the day before, actually, but I didn't notice until I was back at the hostel picking up my bag. I got to the bus station with about half an hour to spare and got in line at the ticket desk. After about fifteen minutes I was at the front of the line and I explained my situation to the man, hoping he would be able to use my information to look up the ticket I had purchased. The bus at that time was sold out, he told me when I said I would buy another one if he couldn't find mine. I felt like crying. I had to get back in time to see The Lion King musical, and that meant I needed to be on that bus.
The man was very helpful. He looked through all the information online trying to find a match for my ticket. He used the exact time I purchased it, where I had purchased it, the total price of the round trip, and found nothing. He even called the bus station in London to see if they had a record of it. It was almost as though I had never ordered the ticket. Finally, a little while after the bus was meant to be leaving, he told me my best bet was to talk to the bus driver and see if there was any extra seats. The bus was late and hadn't even arrived. I was trying so hard not to cry.
The bus driver let me on the bus, for another 25 euro, which was the price of the round trip ticket originally. I was a mix of relieved and horribly exhausted. I slept on the bus and got back to London with just enough time to get to the theater in time for The Lion King. I even had the time to duck into a convenience store and buy some strawberries and gluten free ginger cookies, which I ate in the theater before the musical started. I wish I had not been so tired. I had a hard time enjoying the show. It was beautiful, I remember that much. A spectacle, for sure, with amazing costumes and acrobatics and sets. I knew the story and all of the songs, which made it a little too easy to doze off near the end. I regret that to this day, but mostly because of the shear amount of money I spent on the ticket.
Dead on my feet, I took the long metro ride back to Hounslow and arrived at Sean's apartment. I met the other couchsurfer who was staying, a girl named Amal who was from France. She had plans to get an apartment in London. After talking with Sean and Amal for an hour or so I went to bed.
I slept in late the next day. I needed the sleep, but it meant that my plans for the day needed to be rearranged slightly. Instead of going to The London Dungeon and then Matilda, I was going to Matilda first, since it was mid-afternoon, and then if I had time I would do The London Dungeon afterward. I had some crumpets and jam as well as a bowl of cereal, took a good long shower and headed out into the rain. Rain doesn't stop people in London. Of course it wouldn't. Still, I was amazed by the umbrellas all around, all colors and sizes. I tried in vain to get a good picture; it was hard because of wetness and the gloom.
I got to Cambridge Theater, where Matilda was playing, and got in line with all of the young children and their teachers and parents. It was one of my favorite musicals of all time, and I think that has something to do with it being one of my favorite stories. Who doesn't love a story about a brilliant little girl with magical powers? Add songs to that and I fall in love. It was well done and the actors of the children were all amazingly talented. I was very impressed.
On the way to the London Dungeon after the show I stopped and had a yogurt and some cookies. I got a little lost trying to find the London Dungeon, which is surprising. It is literally right next to The London Eye, so you'd think it would be hard to miss. I just kept looking for it on signs and street maps and it wasn't there, and no one I asked seemed to know what I was talking about. Of course they wouldn't. It's not something locals would know anything about. It's way too touristy for that.
I have to give this one piece of advice. If you are tired and have a splitting headache, don't go to The London Dungeon. Not even if you bought a ticket days before and probably won't have any other time to use it. You will most likely have to wait in a very long queue (in the rain) and then once you get inside you will continue to be in line for what feels like miles. And it smells. Like a dungeon, really. They did that well. I can still vividly remember that smell. It makes me want to gag, a bit. Not good for headaches.
Still, it was an interesting experience. I remember chatting with some people in line, laughing at the creepy signs on the walls, the living roaches in cages, the door made out of flexible material that was continuously punched in my some fake hulking monster that was on the other side, and the people in costumes playing with real rats which we got to pet. Then the actual tour started. We took a stroll through the grimiest parts of London's history and folklore, from Anne Boleyn to Sweeney Todd. I mostly enjoyed it, but my headache continued to get worse and the smell never went away. Once I got put in a cage, which I liked because I got to sit down.
I ate the last of the snacks I had packed once I was out of the tour. They consisted of a banana, a yogurt, and two cookies. I also drank some water, but it wasn't enough to sooth my migraine. I got on the metro back to Hounslow. Sean and Amal weren't there, so I had some quiet time to myself. I packed my stuff, ate some leftover pasta and went straight to bed.
The next day I left Sean's apartment for the last time. He was sleeping on the couch when I grabbed all my food from the fridge. Moving as silently as I could I made him an origami crane out of scrap paper and wrote a quick thank you note, and then I was out the door. I had a lot of food and a list of places I needed to see in London before I left. I started with the Tower of London and Tower Bridge. I just walked by and took a bunch of pictures. Some of the photos of Tower Bridge were perfectly timed so that there was a red double decker bus right in the center of the bridge. You'll never know if that's true, since they are all gone.
I took a bus to St. Paul's Cathedral and took some more pictures. I was so unimpressed with nice looking buildings at that point. It was the last day of the trip and I just wanted more time to leave the city and see more of smaller places, the hidden beauties. I was done with churches and famous spots. I started to get a stomach ache, sitting in front of the cathedral and snacking. I had a large amount of food and felt obligated to eat it. I spent the next hour or so in a cafe, at a table as close to the bathroom as I could find, sitting with my head in my hands.
I eventually felt somewhat better, so I got up and headed to a smaller church that Nina had told me did a free tour. Sadly, I forgot that it was Sunday and churches do churchy things on Sundays and don't give tours of the neighborhood. I took the metro from there to Victoria Station, where I waited in a long line just to turn in my Oyster Card. There were crowds of people, as usual.
The bus and ferry trip to Dublin was long. I remember being impressed by the size and comfort of the ferry, but I was also so tired that I would rather have had a nice bed instead of trying to find a couch that wasn't taken. I definitely had a couple cricks in my neck after that night. I got up to go to the bathroom and someone took my couch, so I slept for the last hour on a very small chair. I sat next to a very nice young Irish woman on the bus who was going home after visiting a relative in London. I would have liked to keep in touch, but she wasn't the type of person to use the internet, and didn't even have an email. Sadly, I don't even remember her name, just her smile and how incredibly tall she was. She also liked donuts, and got one when we stopped at a rest stop. She had never heard of a Boston Cream.
That was the last leg of my Europe Adventure, and I spent the rest of it in various airports, which I bet you've heard enough about. Especially since my most common activity in airports was drinking tea and writing this blog. I did a lot of both of those things on that trip. One funny thing was that there were people trying to sell me Irish Whiskey to take home with me in the Dublin airport, and offering me samples which I kindly refused. It is such a different mentality in Ireland; none of them ever considered I was underage in my country.
I got back to Boston, and then just five short days later I set off on my next adventure: Lesley University. You'll probably hear a little more about that in days to come. Or at least about how I recently decided to stop going after only one year. Typical me, never able to stay in one place.
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