Trip #6: London, England
14 Mar 2010 1 Comment
in Study Abroad, Travel Tags: cities, famous landmarks, food, markets, museums, Travel Writing
Compared to the nightlife that raced at 60 mph, London by day moved at a pace of 30 mph. But we saw so much between 11am and 3:30pm that writing it out will be just as exhausting as our race through London. To make things easier, here is a list:
Big Ben: The famous clock tower was the first English landmark I laid eyes on the night we arrived. There were green lights illuminating the face. The first thing that came to mind was Peter Pan, when Pan, Wendy, and her brothers are flying through the night sky towards Neverland and pass by the hands of the clock.
Parliament: Sitting along the Thames, it’s commanding presence was unmistakable.
The London Eye: From inside a bulb at the top of the carousal, you can see all of London. It circles so slowly that it never looks like its moving. On a flier stuck to the door of the hostel bathroom stall, I learned that it costs 17 to ride or 28 to skip the queue. I think seeing it from afar was enough and walking the streets of London was more rewarding than getting a bird’s eye view.
British Museum: If I had to describe it in one word, I would choose ‘enormous.’ The British Museum houses 8 different collections, as well as The Great Court, Reading Room, Enlightenment Gallery, Wellcome Trust Gallery, and Clore Education Centre. It would take more than a handful of visits to see everything. Our group chose to take the first self-guided tour in a map we bought. We saw the collections of Ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, and the Middle East. The highlight was the Rosetta Stone.
The Globe Theatre: We only saw it from the outside. I love Shakespeare. I plan to go back in a few weeks to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
The Millennium Bridge: It looked like a silvery web of spider silk, spun into a bridge for people to cross the River Thames. It’s a steel suspension bridge with two entrances that zipper into one. Once called the Wobbly Bridge, it got refurbished for 2.5 million.
London Bridge: I only saw it from far, far away, but I hope I get a closer look the next time I go.
The Borough Market: Amazing. It was my favorite part of London. There were stalls selling cheese, olive oil, sweets, meats, jams, and more. I shouldered the crowd to get a sample of everything, even Turkish deserts and baklava. If I lived in London, I would be there everyday buying my food and groceries. Out of all the markets I’ve been to, it was the best.
Clink Prison Museum: We didn’t go inside, but passed it on our way to the market. There was a skeleton inside a metal cage hanging above us in the alley we squeezed through.
St. Paul’s Cathedral: We climbed a set of stone steps and at the top the cathedral’s domed head emerged into view. It was a gigantic, white structure that didn’t look like the majority of other churches or cathedrals I have seen.
The Underground: We didn’t ride it, but we walked passed the entrances, which were few and far between.
We strolled along the Victoria Embankment, then brisk walked back down to catch the bus at 3:30pm.
~ Salma
Trip #2: Amsterdam, Day 2
01 Mar 2010 1 Comment
in Study Abroad, Travel Tags: Anne Frank, food, parents, quotes, senses
Day 2 Sense and Sensibility
I am a food-motivated person. My body was begging for more sleep, but I hauled it downstairs to catch the breakfast buffet at 9am. I piled enough food on my tray for 2 1/2 people, but only so that I could pack the majority for the long day ahead. The two major places we visited were The Anne Frank House and The Heineken Experience.
When we were looking for The Anne Frank House, we saw a long line snake around a building across the canal, wondered what people were waiting for, and kept walking. We ended up turning back and realized that we had walked past it. The queue was long and wide, but it moved fairly quickly. In half an hour we were inside.
We gingerly ascended a steep, narrow staircase, which lead to the middle floor. That was where Otto Frank, Anne’s father, ran his business. What is was, I can’t remember. All the rooms were empty, as Otto had requested they would be when the house became a museum. Different quotes from Anne’s diary were painted in white on the walls. There were pictures of the individuals who helped the Frank’s stay in hiding.
In that house, I developed a new habit of touching things to cement the experience in my mind. Otherwise, it all feels like a distant dream. The sense of touch livens my memories. My fingertips grazed the walls, my palms cupped corners. Walking into a small room, we came face to face with the bookshelf that hid the entrance to the hiding place upstairs. My fingers scuttled over the binders that had played pretend with the shelves.
With every step, my lungs tightened. When I reached the landing, I was breathing heavily – not because I was weary, but because the rooms held me in a suffocating grip. They were dimly lit. On the windows, black paint like a blindfold had kept the light out and the people in. In the kitchen, I pressed my hands against the bumpy kitchen counter. It was like the house still had goosebumps. I couldn’t touch the walls in Anne’s room. Just the thought of it made me want to burst into tears. But my fingers may have tickled the faces of one or two celebrity pictures she had taped up as decoration.
The toilet was white china with blue designs, and you had to pull a cord from above to flush it. We couldn’t go up into the attic, but there were mirrors leaning at different angles that gave us a full view of the room from below. I recognized the one window that Anne and Peter sat at to feel the sun and see the birds. I never read her diary, but I read a play based off of it in middle school. I saw a high school performance of the play at some point as well.
One hallway, on either side, had pictures of the Franks and the van Pels. I noticed that Anne’s sister Margot had the same birthday as my sister, February 16th. It was eerie. I believe there were 8 people total cooped up in that house for 2 long years. Every time I thought about being forced to stay inside for that long, with that many people, I lost my breath. I could see the families wandering around like ghosts, skin pale from lack of sky, souls withered from lack of life. If I was alone, I would have cried.
The houses beside Anne’s house were bought and are used as part of the museum. The last room in the house opened up into a larger one in the adjacent building. There were videos on the walls of an interview with Anne’s best friend. The old woman talked about their childhood, how they spoke through a fence at Auschwitz. “If Anne had known that her father was still alive, she may have had the will to live. Only two months later, it was all over.”
Otto spoke to the solemn visitors on another screen. He talked about surviving the Holocaust, finding Anne’s diary afterward, and the experience of reading it and getting it published. It was a stroke of luck that one of the women who helped hide them snatched it and kept it safe after the families were found. Anne’s father made one comment that fixed me to the floor to listen to his loop 3 times. He recalled his close relationship with Anne, and how that made reading her writing so striking. The maturity of thought and sharp sensibility seemed to come from a different girl; not a girl, but a woman.
His last words were, “No matter how close they are to them, parents never really know their children.”
There is an abundance of truth in that statement. Maybe I’ll write more about that another day.
Further along the museum, they had displays about how Anne’s diary is the second most translated book in the world, after the Bible. They also had quotes from famous people, such as Nelson Mandela, who were moved and inspired by Anne’s writing.
Visiting that house was a powerful experience. I was still shaken afterward.
~ Salma
