Universal Signs

                The first thing you need to know about today is that last night after finishing my blog, I broke my alarm clock. I plugged it in to my adapter/converter, set my alarm, turned around to go brush my teeth, and then heard a "pff" sound. I whipped around to find that the alarm clock had been blown out, complete with burnt plastic smell. It was about one in the morning, and as many of you know I like my sleep, so my instant thought was that there was no way I was going to wake up in time for my nine o'clock class. Panic. Sheer, bloody panic.

                By some miracle I sat bolt upright in bed around eight a.m., when breakfast is served. So I went down to the dining hall and had my first official Cambridge breakfast. Frosted Flakes and orange juice. Highly cultural it was not, but it was just fine by my standards. At the end of the breakfast hour, I went off to find my first class, which turned up to be in a room labeled Granger. This place manages to fuel my Harry Potter fervor at just about every turn; something about just being in Britain.

                So, my first class was travel writing. Today was like the equivalent of syllabus day in many ways. We went over the goals and assignments for the class, and then critiqued a few pieces of travel writing.  My professor, Andrew Merton, seems wonderfully laid back and I expect this class will be incredibly fun. My first assignment is actually due this Thursday. I have to write three pages, double spaced, on some sort of experience I've had since being in Cambridge. That being said, Dr. Merton would rather we do a piece that isn't purely personal; I'm going to have to do more research than I would have expected for this class. But I'm still looking forward to it! And since I don't have classes tomorrow I'm going to try and head out and find something worth exploring. I don't think it will be too difficult because everything here has a history.

                My other class, 20th century poetry, was equally delightful, the only problem is that it is directly after travel writing, so I'm sitting in the same room for about four hours straight. Cultural anthropology this past winter prepared me well for this unique discomfort.  Anyway, the professor for 20th century poetry, Dr. Glen Cavaliero, is absolutely adorable. He's this little British man with round spectacles and white, wispy tufts of hair. He pronounces my name "Kat-lynn". And he reads us poetry in his darling British accent. I'll be happy just to listen to this man talk for six weeks. Beyond that he has a lovely sense of humor. He compared the tastes of Hardy, Yeats, and Elliot to "those sweets in Harry Potter that you pick up and think will taste like raspberry but winds up tasting of something like garlic". I'm fairly sure my jaw dropped. Do you see what I mean about the cosmic references to Harry Potter? The man just made a reference to Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans in a 20th century poetry class. Brilliant. I'm sure there will be more Cavaliero quotes to come.

                After classes I went out with a group of girls from the program and wandered about Cambridge. I had two things on my mind.  The first being an alarm clock because there was no way that I would continue to wake up accurately; I do not expect daily miracles, after all. The second being a heavy sweater. Today was rather overcast and chilly, and while I was grateful that it didn't rain, my cardigan definitely didn't pull its weight. So we explored Cambridge some more and wound up finding a theater. I decided to stop ignoring the universe's mass communiqué about Harry Potter and the six of us bought tickets right then and there for The Deathly Hallows Part II. We're going Saturday night. I'm incredibly excited!

                Then we worked are way back towards Gonville and Caius and grabbed some pizza at a Greek restaurant, which was delicious. The best part though was while we were eating, the British equivalent of Jerry Springer blared overhead. We watched spellbound as the host berated his sixteen year-old guest about becoming a baby daddy for his third time (at least allegedly, because of course there was a paternity test involved!). Absolutely hilarious!

                After that, my day slowed down significantly. We had our weekly meeting at four o'clock with our tea. Tea is served daily at four here and I could seriously get used to this. I've never been much of a tea person but I think in England that's bound to change. They fairly well live and breathe tea here. Slowly but surely becoming a fan. I think it may be due to the petite cups and saucers more than anything else.

                I did manage to find a heavy sweater and a travel alarm clock though. So I'm all set. Now if I can only figure out how to set the darn thing...

Round and Round I Go

                Well I finally arrived safe and sound in Cambridge, England. Getting here was such an incredibly long process; I have to remind myself that it took two days and not the single day my brain insists it must have taken because of the time change. So once again sleep deprived, I am going to try and break down the past few days for you.

Sunday, the 10th of July

                While still in Columbus, OH, I had lunch with my Dad and my good friend Carolyn Lishawa at T.G.I Fridays. Carolyn is the one who introduced me to the Cambridge program at University of New Hampshire (UNH forevermore), which she attended last summer with rave reviews. It was glorious serendipity that allowed me to catch up with Carolyn and pump her full of last minute questions since she usually is not a Columbus resident. It was so wonderful to see a familiar face before I took off, and talking to her completely allayed my pre-Cambridge jitters.

                Some of the interesting stuff Carolyn was able to pass on...

                Tidbit 1: Cambridge University is not a single university. Much like our college towns in the U.S. the area is littered with historic colleges, with shops and fabulous restaurants scattered about. The collective of these colleges is generally referred to as Cambridge University so as not to confuse us plebes.  The place where I am staying and taking classes is called Gonville and Caius (pronounced 'keys') College. Stephen Hawking is a fellow of Gonville and Caius and his office is tucked somewhere around here.

                Tidbit 2: DO NOT GO ON THE GRASS. I'm shouting at you because this is apparently a big deal. Only full Gonville and Caius graduates, or fellows, are allowed to walk on the grass because they have earned that right. Similarly, as a simple study abroad student I am not allowed to walk through the gate labeled "Honor" since it's the gate that only graduates walk through during commencement. This whole thing left me a bit incredulous because it's GRASS and I'm used to tromping all over the place at ONU. Still, every institution has it's quirks and traditions. That's not to say that there may not be a picture flouting tradition here at a later date...

                Anyway, after all this fun info was shared I had to go off to the airport. The flight to Chicago's O'Hare was fairly unremarkable, the only part worth mentioning is that it was the first time I've ever walked up the stairs of a commercial jet, which gave me a giddy feeling and I had to fight the urge to do the Queen wave before I entered the jet. I have some such little impulses from time to time but for the most part I try to squash them so that normal people don't look at me like I'm a nutter.

                The flight to London's Heathrow airport was nice and smooth. Long, but smooth. I was able to watch a few in-flight movies on the way out though, Cedar Rapids and Cars. For the record, Cedar Rapids is only good for a few giggles and not very satisfying giggles at that. Cars; however, is always worth the viewing and its giggles are always satisfying. Of course, I cannot neglect to mention the airplane food. Actually I could very well neglect to mention the airplane food because it was not tasty but it is worth mentioning that I dropped cheese ravioli all down my front and continued my travels looking like a wayward child in need of a bib. My spill prompted the kindly man of undetermined Eastern European origin sitting next me to smile and say, "Is ok. No one vill notice." He was remarkably patient with me as I continued to drop everything from napkins to cups. Bless you, kindly man of undetermined Eastern European origin.

Monday, the 11th of July

                I deplaned at 11:30am and headed straight to customs, which with the lines took me over an hour. I always feel like I'm going to get singled out and given the third degree because even though I know I've done nothing wrong I feel strangely suspect. And just standing there moving inch my inch only seems to amplify that feeling. But no armed guards leapt out at me and the actual stamping of my passport took all of a minute. From there I was able to corral my luggage and find my way to the Central Bus Station.

                I was actually incredibly lucky to meet another girl going to Cambridge, though not to my particular college, in the elevator to the Bus Station.  We shall call her Mystery Girl because though we chatted at length about our programs she never gave me her name. In any event, it was good to have someone to travel with.  Mystery Girl and I struggled to purchase tickets for the Coach; the self-service machines took our money but refused to spit out our tickets. We were just able to make the 1:10 bus to Cambridge. Both of us quickly fell asleep and the bus rolled on for three hours. One thing I will say about my brief stint with consciousness on the bus--the English are ridiculously fond of roundabouts. They are everywhere!

                By the time we got off the bus in Cambridge proper it was around 4:30 pm. This really stressed me out because not only had this whole process felt like an eternity but I was now rather late for the opening introductions of my program. I ended up sharing a cab with Mystery Girl and our cabbie was incredibly helpful. Paul (funny how I can remember the cabbie's name and not the Girl's, eh?) told us all about which buildings were constructed when and where the best pubs are. The architecture in Cambridge is fabulous. All these colleges have varying gothic or Victorian motifs, and crests are everywhere. I cannot wait to roam around and take pictures! Paul pointed out a particular pub called The Anchor that is right on the river and Mystery Girl and I resolved to try and meet up there at some point. I'm hoping to actually put a name with the face by then.

                Paul then dropped us off at our respective colleges. I have to say that so far that in all of my travels, the English are the most willing to help the dazed and confused. If you have a lost look on your face, chances are an Englishman will approach you and offer to help you find your destination. This little trait is proving to be a Godsend because somewhere in the block between where Paul dropped me off and the actual gates of Gonville and Caius, I got lost.  Shocking, I'm sure.

                Even though I was severely late, it didn't seem to be that big of a deal. I had just missed the welcome brigade and the official tour. The program director Andrew Merton cheerfully helped me find my room. He even assisted me in carrying my luggage up the narrow spiral staircase that leads up to my dorm. We were both huffing and puffing by the time we reached my room on the second floor; those stair are steep! I'm going to have to give some serious consideration to how much stuff I buy if I have to go down those stairs with my bulky suitcases by myself!

                My dorm is ridiculously spacious. I think I received one of the bigger rooms quite by accident. Size-wise it's about a room and a half of one of ONU's apartments. I've got two windows (important since there is no AC), a nice double bed, two simple chairs, and a closet with a built in sink. The restroom is just down the hall, as is the shower. The showers are insanely cramped but private, each of the two showers on the floor are enclosed in their own mini room. 

                I was able to do a quick change (remember the ravioli?) and head down to The Buttery, which is the college pub two floors down from my room.  Here is essentially my new routine for the next six weeks: Buttery at 6pm for pre-dinner drinks and socializing and from there we are escorted into the dining hall promptly at 6:30pm and served a three course meal by an courteous and professional wait-staff. I fully plan on taking pictures of my meals too because the food was wonderful. The dining hall is so grand. All carved wood and crests with stained glass windows and portraits of esteemed alumni and deans on the wall. I think it will be a great place to dine twice a day.

                After dinner a few of us decided to walk off our meal by exploring a bit of Cambridge. It gets cool here at night so the weather ranges from high seventies to low fifties throughout the day, and our walk was absolutely glorious. We tracked down a little grocery store where we can get some snacks and I bought a bottle of laundry detergent for a pound, which was a freaking steal! Of course, we got lost. There are so many little shops and an equal number of grand colleges, each with their own gate firmly stating that you aren't allowed in. It can be a little intimidating. But we ended up finding out way back and discovered some really interesting things to do here in Cambridge.

                So here's our list o' stuff:

·         Go Punting. (Think gondola ride) There was a sign for weekly punting ghost tours on Saturday nights, and I'm just dork enough to do it.

·         Visit the Magic Joke shop. It looked eerily similar to a muggle Zonkos.

·         See the Cambridge botanical gardens.

·         Go to the live music events at the local pub down the street on Friday nights.

                That's what we've got so far, but it's a good start.

                Sorry this post is so long. Still it should give you a sense of how long this whole thing has felt! I won't officially post this till tomorrow morning since I don't get internet in my room, but for veracity's sake I finished this at 12:55am Cambridge time.  I have my first day of classes in the morning, which I'm reeeeeaaaaallllly looking forward to. But I need sleep for that. So again I say, to bed!

My Inaugural Address

            Hello there! I'm assuming if you're reading this that you know me, but on the off chance that I'm wrong here is a minor introduction:
            My name is Caitlin McCann, I'm a 21 year-old senior studying at Ohio Northern University, and I'm majoring in creative writing.
           There, short and sweet.
            Now for the next six weeks I will be studying at Cambridge University in England. I started this blog as a way for me to keep my family and friends updated on my experiences. So far I've completed one leg of my journey, which entailed leaving my hometown of St. Louis, Missouri to venture out to Columbus, Ohio. In case you were wondering, the airfare was cheaper if I left from Columbus.  I don't actually leave for England until tomorrow (or today technically since it's one in the morning).
            At the moment I'm feeling what can best be described as "little kid at Christmas" syndrome; that anxious and excited state that comes from not knowing what goodies tomorrow will bring. I've spent so much time thinking about this summer program, and now that it's finally here I can't sleep. The perfect time to set up a blog, right?
            What I actually know about my program is semi-limited. I know I'll be taking two classes, one on 20th century poetry and one on travel writing. I know that there are events planned for my future, like a trip to Edinburgh, Scotland or taking in a play at the Globe. I also know rain boots are a valued article of clothing. But beyond that, I don't know much. I'll just have to figure it all out when I get there, and I'll do my best to keep you posted (Ha ha posted, get it? Cause it's a blog post. It's probably the late hour that's got me feeling so clever).
            Ah well, to bed!