Day 8: Hampton Court Palace

     Hello!

     Well, friends...today was my last day in London. I spent it with Kerrie and Nathan at Hampton Court Palace, which was perfect. You all know about my fascination with Henry VIII, so walking around his home (again) was thrilling. The palace had several more rooms open this year, as well as a new exhibit about Charles II’s mistresses, which I had heard about a month or so ago and really wanted to see. It was so amazing, being at that palace again. 

     It really is a labyrinth though! It took us about five hours to make it through the palace and the gardens, not because we were lost, but because it's so big! There was a throne room, and a more private throne room; public dining rooms for the king, and private dining rooms for the king. There ended up being three bedrooms for King William, each with different levels of publicity. There were several dining rooms, several drawing rooms, and hundreds of guest rooms. But what boggled my mind is, this palace was used by several monarchs, and none of them wanted to reuse the rooms of their predecessors; at least not in the same way. Henry VIII's portion was almost entirely destroyed by William and Mary, who wanted to remodel the palace in the Baroque style (my motto is: "if it's not Baroque, don't fix it!" Name that quote!). Fortunately, William was short on money and decided to leave the untouched portion of Hampton Court as it was. As a result, there are several wings of the palace that have been remodeled in several different styles. It's beautiful, absolutely, if a bit of a puzzle. The history that's there is so rich though, as you can imagine! 

Henry's Clock Tower

The Orangery

 The Windsor Castle Pub, in Kensington. Built in 1835!

     After leaving the Palace, we went to the Windsor Castle Pub for supper before Kerrie and Nathan walked me down a picturesque Kensington street to the underground. 

     I'm really sad to leave London. It was difficult last year, after having spent three weeks here. Since I only spent one week here, it's even more difficult. I miss my family and my friends, of course, but this city is very dear to me, and it's difficult to leave. It was a short trip, but I learned a lot. God had clearly ordained every single step, and He took care of me in the amazing, kind way He always does. He blessed me in ways I couldn't expect, and will always remember. He is so good! I leave for home tomorrow. I'll see you all soon!

Day 7: The V&A, Chez Paul, and "Les Miserables!"

     Hey there!

     Yesterday was absolutely magical. My plans were extremely loose for the day; I had planned to meet up with some friends from college at the Victoria & Albert Museum, then go where the wind took us.

Poseidon and Tritan

     After exploring the rooms that the first level had to offer, the girls wanted to move on and get something to eat. They had had a very full few days and were still jetlagged, so the museum was a bit overwhelming.  We decided to eat at Chez Paul, a small cafe version of the restaurant in Paris. It was absolutely WONDERFUL! I had a slice of their rhubarb and custard tart, along with a small cup of their luxury drinking chocolate. It tasted a bit like a version of hot chocolate that we used to sell at Starbucks. Unfortunately, it's long gone. I'm determined to find my own recipe for it, because it truly was a luxurious cup of chocolate!

     Considering the hours ahead, we entertained the idea of taking one of the many walks that London has to offer. At that point in the day, the only walks available were a pub walk (which we decided against), a ghost walk, and a Jack the Ripper walk. After weighing our options, we decided that either of those last two walks would be thrilling and spooky, but not something we'd want to deal with later on that evening after the lights were out. We're Drama and English students with overactive imaginations, can you blame us?

     So, after doing a bit of research, we found a low ticket price for "Les Miserables!" Two of the girls had never seen it before (none of us had seen it in London!), so the four of us quickly made our way down to the Queen's Theatre in Piccadilly. The ticket prices weren't as low as they were advertised, but...it's "Les Miserables!" So we bit the bullet and bought our tickets (which really were a decent price, even though they weren't as low as we wanted them to be). The show was incredible. The vocals and acting were top notch, of course (David Shannon played Jean Valjean!), and the set was remarkable. They managed to hide HUGE set pieces back stage, then bring them on and arrange them so smoothly that the scene changes seemed more like dissolves. The lighting was really specific, and it brought the show to life in a way I haven't experienced before. The orchestra was terrific, and I heard parts that I'd never heard before (I'm sure the show's changed since its beginning, which is the only recording I have of it)! I was blown away, and it was such a blessing to see it! It's my favorite show (followed VERY closely by "The Phantom of the Opera," and "Beauty and the Beast"), and I was really praying that I'd get to see it during this trip, even though I didn't think I'd have time. What an amazing experience! Every time I see a show, especially one of this caliber, it reminds me of why I'm doing what I'm doing. Theatre refreshes me, it's life.

     After the show ended, my friends and I found the stage door and were able to get autographs from the young women who played Cosette and Eponine. They were so sweet! So that was an extra thrill.

     On an unrelated side-note, I was able to witness Britain's finest firsthand. Yesterday, on the train, the driver came over the intercom to inform us that the train wouldn't go west of Hammersmith because there was a possible unexploded device. A few stops later, the police had ascertained that it was safe to continue and took care of the suspicious article. Last night, there was a man yelling at another outside of my window in what sounded like an African language. I've heard screams around here a couple of times, but not for any extended length of time. And there's usually loud conversations going on until about 2:00 in the morning. But this man was very upset, and it went on for several minutes. As I considered calling the police, I heard one of them begin to yell at the man below. I looked out of my window and saw about four policemen harshly telling him to be quiet, go home, and leave the man alone. Since they don't carry guns, most of us in America assume that they are powerless. From what I've seen (last year and this year), the policemen here are professional enough and strong enough to make London a city that has a statistically lower crime rate than other comparably sized cities. I'm not saying that they shouldn't have guns, but since they don't, I think they're managing their job fantastically well. It's a different crime culture out here, a different mindset that exists among the criminals. I don't think the no-guns policy is something we could ever have for policemen in the U.S., but it's admirable that it works so well here.

     Sorry for the lack of photos! I took more, but my mailbox is having trouble receiving them from my phone.

Day 6: The Tower, Shopping, and "Misterman"

     Hello!

     Yesterday, I went to the Tower of London with Kerrie and Nathan. Last month, I played Lady Jane Grey, the Nine Day Queen, in a play called "For the Least of These." Naturally, after spending so much time on the role, she became very dear to me. I've seen the Tower before, and while I loved it the first time, this trip was more of a pilgrimage. I made sure I stopped to buy a rose from a very friendly flower vendor in the Leicester Square station (I wanted to buy her an entire bouquet, but it was too expensive) to place on her grave.

     Unfortunately, I'd forgotten that her grave was roped off, as it is next to the altar in the chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula. Our Yeoman Warder gave us his condensed-but-excellent tour speech in the chapel, since it was raining, then had us leave quickly before the next tour group came. His account of Lady Jane Grey's plight was more sympathetic than I had heard anyone (besides me and Gil Elvgren, the writer of the play I was in) recount before, so I knew he would understand. I asked him if he would place the rose on her grave for me.

     "Yes, of course I will, sweetheart. I saw you with it earlier, and I'll be happy to place it for you right now."

     He seemed truly touched by my request. When he was called away, briefly, he placed it aside and promised to return and place it on her grave right away. It was really special to me, because I believe he understood exactly what I was feeling. Anne Boleyn gets a bouquet of red roses every year on the anniversary of her execution from a local society. While she was innocent of the charges against her, she was certainly not an innocent woman in other ways. In my mind, Lady Jane Grey is far more deserving, but she's often overlooked, since her reign was so short.

     That being done, we went on to tour the rest of the Tower. I thought of the Tower's previous occupants and wondered what they would have thought of what the Tower's become. William the Conqueror, the king who ordered it to be built, would be irate, I'm sure. He built it to be a fortress, and a source of intimidation. The precision and symmetry with which it was built struck fear into the hearts of the townspeople, who were not used to seeing such order and knew that it could not bode well. They were right.

Can you see the archer guarding the walls? He's perched on edge the furthest tower.

     While we walked through the exhibits, we saw the Queen's Jubilee Crystal! It will be the last beacon  (out of hundreds all over England) to be lit on her Jubilee. It will be lit by the Queen herself at 10:30 PM. 

     Of course, the Crown Jewels filled me with envy. They do sparkle so... *sigh*

     The rest of the exhibits were pretty cool. I had a new appreciation for the arms and armor section, after studying it extensively during my Rapier and Dagger class this past semester. 

This shows how the different English coins form different parts of a shield! Cool, huh?

     One of the guard statues up close

 Tower Bridge

"Jane," carved into the wall of Beauchamp Tower by her husband, Lord Guildford Dudley

     As we walked through Beauchamp Tower, there was a children's field trip there as well. Is there anything more adorable than a British child? One little boy kept walking around saying, "this is SERIOUS, an ADULT DIED!" with all the severity that such a statement must have required. It was ADORABLE. And they were all in their little matching uniforms and matching rain coats--SO CUTE! Their teacher told them that they were going to take them to a place that they had been advised not to take them, but they were going to anyway because they believed that they would behave. Another little boy (or possibly the same one), said "the graveyard?!" I smothered a chuckle as the teacher asked who said that. Why can't you buy little British children in the gift shops?

     After the Tower, I parted ways with Kerrie and Nathan to get some shopping done at Covent Garden. Most of the stores I couldn't afford to do anything more than browse in, but I finished the shopping that I needed to. I also bought an incredible apple tart from Fortnum and Mason, which I am determined to replicate:

     After that, I headed to the Lyttelton at the Royal National Theatre to see "Misterman," starring Cillian Murphy! It was a funny, moving, 90-minute monologue about a sweet, loving, kind-hearted man that believes that he is a prophet sent from God to reform his small, Irish village. He lives in a warehouse (a truly incredible set with functioning water pipes, tons of lights, props, etc.) and replays the events of a day in his past that he recorded. Cillian plays the entire town! I wasn't surprised that his performance was so incredible, because that's just how he is! But this was an entirely new side of him. I usually see him as the small-yet-intimidating young villain (he looks even smaller in real life! Still taller than me though. Go figure.), but this time he was filled with a manic energy, smiling and laughing, jumping and running, and playing each character with full-out, specific choices and a boldness that put me to shame. I was encouraged, on one hand, because I had to do the same thing in that play that I mentioned above (where I played Lady Jane Grey), and I saw that we had made the same choices! But then, he was so much better than me (obviously). So he inspired me to work even harder! He was truly amazing. 

     And the message was wonderful. It was about the moral choices that people make, and how everyone needs to be aware of how they treat those around them, because everyone has something to say. It was special to me, because I talk to mentally ill people on an almost daily basis, and I feel awful for them. Their fears are real, and they are never given the care they need (which they don't think they need anyway). Most people turn them away or ignore them, but they just need someone to listen, which is why I don't hang up on them when they call. They usually just talk themselves out, then hang up themselves. I can't help them, except by listening to them and praying for them, which is what I do. So this play was incredibly touching. It was so great that I bought the script! I waited outside of the stage doors to see if I could meet him, but after waiting for about 40 minutes, the door man came out and informed the small crowd that had gathered that he very rarely uses the stage door to leave the theatre, which didn't surprise me at all. All of his interviews, and even his bows after the show, seem to indicate that he's a more quiet, introverted man that would want to avoid crowds. It's understandable. Still, I waited another half an hour, just in case. It was just me and another woman, at that point, haha. The few, the faithful. I gave up around 10:30 though, feeling certain that he wasn't going to come, and I was numb from the cold. Austin Pendleton walked right past me though, so that was kind of cool.

     What a day! 

Day 5: Church, Kensington, and Some Laughs

     Greetings!

     On Sunday I visited my friend's church, Westminster Chapel (not Westminster Abbey, which many tourists mistake it for).

     It was so special to worship with my Christian family, overseas. I love how no matter where I go, I will always have family in the Church. I will always find a haven, and people that I have common ground with. Amazing! The congregation was friendly and welcoming, and the church was thriving and diverse, with many opportunities for fellowship and outreach. The pastor was honest, caring, and preached a wonderful expository message about the sufficiency and authority of Scripture, and how we should be obedient to God's Word and bold enough to change our society. When he prayed, he prayed specifically for ailing members of the church, for the Queen and her Jubilee, for David Cameron and the Parliament, for the churches of England, for their pastors, etc. I was so inspired by his passion, care and specificity. It was wonderful! The church reminded me so much of my church back home! It was Gospel-centered, and the pastor was truly an example for his congregation, willing to challenge and quick to exhort. I loved it!

     After catching up with my friend, I left to meet Nathan and Kerrie, friends from my home church. We spent the afternoon at Kensington Palace! I went there last year, but it was being renovated. They had made it into a magical, princess-themed palace, filled with interactive exhibits and decor that seemed almost straight out of Alice-in-Wonderland (except less trippy and scary). This year, the palace has a new look to it. I didn't take pictures of most of the inside, because it was too dark and we weren't allowed to use our flash. But it was still magical!

     Besides the awe I felt at standing in the room where Queen Victoria was born, or where she held her first Privy Council meeting, where Albert died, or where she first heard that she was queen, the castle continued to be interactive. I was looking at a piece of music that Albert had written for Victoria, and suddenly, out of nowhere, it began to play. I looked over at my friends, who had just read the instructions to press the button to hear the music, but did not press it. Someone else must have. It was a beautiful song! Victoria was a lucky girl! Which she was thoroughly aware of, of course.

Kensington Palace!

They really did! It was slightly creepy, but AWESOME! 

This, in a way, sums up Kensington. It's whimsical, magical, and beautiful. I love it!

My favorite couple! They'll be moving into the royal apartments at Kensington (which we saw the outside of!) next summer. 

     The palace also had a section for William and Mary; George I; James II and his wife, Mary of Modena; and Diana. Diana's section had photographs and some of her beautiful dresses, but it felt very strange to me. I know it's because she's the one I can remember; I remember the 90's and the styles that she made famous, I remember what she did, what she stood for, and when she died. I remember how the world wept at her sudden and untimely death. She was no saint, but it was still sad. So that room was interesting, but poignant. The section for George I was fun, as moving through the rooms involved a card game! You would collect cards as you walked through the rooms (if you could find them), then find out what they spell at the end to discover what your position would have been at the court. You could also play one of the "courtiers" to win a more elusive card. As it turned out, I would have been the Court Physician, which is ironic, as I would never touch a leech, nor am I able to watch surgery shows. But the game was fun. :)

      After that, we were starving, so we made our way to the Prince of Wales pub, where we shared a LOVELY supper of bacon and cheese jacket potatoes, a roasted chicken and bacon sandwich with chips (french fries), a hamburger (with an egg--odd, but good according to Nathan) and cider that tasted like candy! 

     From there, we made our way to another pub, where there was a comedy show going on, hosted by a friend of Kerrie's (and a fellow cupcake maker!). It was hilarious! There were five acts, and all of them were fantastic. The comedians had very quick wits and fantastic material. Once the MC found out that we were Americans, and that Nathan was in the Navy, he quickly and enthusiastically made Nathan the center of his acts (in a good-natured way). It was an absolutely fantastic evening. After the show ended, we spent time with Kerrie's friend and some of the comedians over a drink. Have I mentioned I love the pubs here? They're nothing like the pubs at home! Everyone is there for fellowship; it's a really friendly, welcoming place, not at all like the rowdy crowd I usually stay away from in pubs in the U.S.. It was a really fun night!  

Day 4: Gislingham

     Hello again!

     I LOVE this little village. Gislingham is a village so small that it can be crossed in five minutes. Each cottage has a name, and some still have thatched roofs! There is a pub, a town hall, a store, a primary school, a church, a football pitch, a playground, a mobile library, a mobile post office (which comes to their village for two hours each day), and a mobile fish and chips van (which comes on Wednesday nights). Doesn't that sound darling?! I couldn't believe how quiet it was last night.

     This morning, Mary and Mark took me to the town hall, where an art show was going on. That village is so talented! There were several paintings and sketches that I would eagerly have bought, if I'd had enough money. Everyone there seemed very kind and friendly. They all knew each other, of course. I don't know what the population is, but I'm sure it's only a few hundred, if that.

     After the art show, they took me to see St. Mary's Church, whose tower I'd seen poking out from behind some trees.

     The iron gate was rickety, and the tombstones were slanted and moss-covered. I LOVED it. As much as I was taken with it from the outside, the inside made my heart leap. It dates back to the Medieval times, and it still has some of the same, patterned tiles. The solid, English oak that was used to build parts of the church (including the ornate, intricately carved rafters and decorations) is still standing strong. Amazing! Mary told me that many of the churches in the area date back to the Norman times! I love it. I would have taken pictures of the inside, but they generally frown on that here.

     On the way back to their cottage, they took me around the back of the village to show me these views that the camera could not do justice to:

     After lunch, we drove a few villages over to a town called Diss, in the county of Norfolk. Since Gislingham is in Suffolk, I couldn't help but compare the two rivaling dukes whose titles came from these neighboring counties during the reign of Henry VIII. I know, I know, me and my obsessions. But...being in their former dukedoms and placing physical places with titles was really exciting for me! 

     The Duke of Norfolk (Thomas Howard) was the conniving, ambitious man who was behind the marriages of Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard to Henry (the two wives that were beheaded). Not a great track record, which was why he was sent to the Tower. He wasn't executed, however. After Henry's death, he was released, and later aided Bloody Mary on her way to the throne, earning back the titles he had lost when he fell from Henry's favor. Sounds like a pretty bad guy, right? There's more, but I'll leave you to do that research. 

The Duke of Norfolk

     The Duke of Suffolk (Charles Brandon) was conniving and far from a saint himself, but his story is far more endearing. His father was killed by Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth during Henry VII's fight for the throne. Left as an orphan, Henry VII had him brought to court and raised there. This was not uncommon for the orphans of men who had performed a great service for the king, but Charles distinguished himself in other ways. He and Henry VII's son, the future Henry VIII, became the best of friends. He was actually closer in age to Henry's older brother, Arthur, but Charles had much more in common with Henry. They were both athletic, handsome (I know, I know, but for THEIR day they were handsome. Henry VIII wasn't always obese and insane!), extremely competitive, charming, and ladies' men. This was all well and good, until Charles and Henry's sister, Mary, fell in love. When Henry decided to marry his sister off to the aging King Louis XII of France, she agreed to marry him on the one condition that she would be allowed to choose her own husband once the king died. Henry, wanting her cooperation, agreed. 

     Charles was appointed to escort Mary to her marriage and to ensure that everything went according to plan. He also participated in the jousts celebrating their marriage. Soon, King Louis died, and Charles was sent back to France to collect Mary and--more importantly--the gold plate and jewels that were supposed to be given to Henry, as well as the reimbursement of the wedding costs, since she was now a widow. Since he was Henry's closest friend and well-titled, Henry seemed to be well-disposed to the idea of Charles marrying his sister. However, Charles had made many enemies in his high position, and Henry decided to use the gold plate and jewels as leverage: Mary, in return for the treasure. Charles was made to promise that he wouldn't propose to Mary, but his trip brought an unexpected surprise.

     Mary was being held under surveillance at the Hotel ("town house") de Cluny in Paris, just to make sure she was not carrying the heir of the French throne. 

     When Charles arrived, Mary met him in the chapel:

     She told him that if they were ever going to be together, they had to marry there, right then, before Henry could interfere. Charles agreed (I like to think it was because he loved her, but he was also known to be an opportunist. But...he was committing treason by marrying her, and he DID love her...so I'm going with the romantic version) and they were married secretly on March 3, 1515. When Henry found out, he was FURIOUS. His privy council urged him to have Charles executed, and they may very well have succeeded, had Cardinal Wolsey not intervened for them. After Charles agreed to pay an exorbitant fine, return Mary's dowry, and give Henry the precious golden plate and jewels, he was once again in the king's good graces and the two were officially married at Greenwich Palace on May 13, 1515. Charles, in spite of his daring move of marrying Henry's sister without his permission, was the only close friend of Henry's to die of natural causes, instead of Henry's anger. Pretty cool, huh?

     As it turns out, Mary is buried in the abbey at Bury-St-Edmunds, in Suffolk--just a village over from Gislingham. I KNEW I'd heard of that village before! You can imagine how upset I am that I missed that, because Mary and Mark would gladly have taken me to see her. *sigh* Next time...

     I hope you enjoyed that rather lengthy tidbit of history as much as I do. I really want to write a novel about it someday. Apparently, their tenants really loved them both, and their romantic story. They were kind landlords, and very much in love. OH! And another interesting tidbit? One of their grandchildren was Lady Jane Grey, the nine day queen, who I portrayed in a play last month. 

     It is now very late (or early, I should say), and I'm back in my hotel, noshing on a Cadbury chocolate bar that Mark and Mary were kind enough to buy for me (8 of them, actually. We'll see if any of them make it back to the States...) before they took me to the station, complete with a packed dinner. Aren't they the best?

Stowmarket Station. Look how old it is! 

     Until tomorrow!

Bluebells!

Yum!

Day 3: Into the Countryside

     Hey there!

     Yesterday morning, I left London to visit friends in East Anglia. I took the train, so I was able to see a good bit of the countryside. It was breathtaking! The grape seed is in bloom, so there were patches of bright yellow here and there in the green landscape. There were trees scattered here and there, wildflowers, and some sort of cereal that is growing that gives an even richer green tone to the landscape. My friends picked me up in a village called Stowmarket, then, after lunch, drove me to their new home in a village about twenty minutes away called Gislingham. 

     These are the friends I stayed with last year, when they lived in Greater London. They are some of the kindest people you could ever hope to meet, and they unfailingly treat me like their grandchild every time I see them. Precious!

     They showed me around their new home, then Mary (not her real name, since I'm overly cautious...) showed me how to make Victoria Sandwich Cake! The recipe is posted at the end of this entry.

Bread pudding (made by Mary's husband, "Mark") in the background, and Victoria Sandwich Cake!

     We enjoyed a lovely supper, lots of tea, and great time spent catching up. You know those friends who you don't see in a while, but it feels like no time has passed at all when you meet again? These are those friends. I always feel so comfortable and at home with them. Their hospitality is unparalleled. Mary's Mother, Samantha (different name), was also there. She is a darling woman, and it was lovely to spend time with her again. She's approaching ninety now, but she's still as sharp as a tack! Mary got out her memorabilia from Queen Elizabeth II's coronation, so I spent hours pouring over it. I still didn't finish looking at everything! I was also really interested in the advertisements they'd listed:

   From a magazine called "Picture Post," published June 13, 1953

From "Illustrated" magazine, an ad from France for Queen Elizabeth II's coronation

     Fun, yes? It was such a different time! There were all sorts of ads especially for housewives and white collar workers. 

     And now, the recipe for Victoria Sandwich Cake!

     Victoria Sponge Cake

     8 oz. Caster Sugar

     8 oz. Soft Butter (salted works well, because there is no other salt in this recipe)

     4 eggs

     8 oz. Self-Rising Flour

     1 teaspoon Baking Powder

     2 Tablespoons Milk

     Butter Cream

     4 oz. Soft Butter (again, salted works well)

     5 oz. Powdered Sugar

     Vanilla Extract (optional)

     You will also need jam (raspberry is traditional, but any kind will do)

     Divide the batter into 2  7 1/2 inch or 8 inch pans and bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Once the cake cools, spread your butter cream mixture on the bottom of one half, and spread the jam on the top of the other half. Sprinkle powdered sugar on top. From what I saw, it seems traditional to eat a slice of this cake with your hands, not with a utensil. I prefer a utensil, but do what you will! Whatever you do, enjoy!

     Cheers!

Day 2: RADA Audition

     Hey friends!

     It seems that, even given a great excuse, I cannot seem to blog faithfully! I apologize. Here's what happened on Thursday, and thank you for your prayers! I needed them. You'll see why...

     I arrived early for my audition (RADA stands for the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, for those of you wondering what that acronym stands for), which was perfect. I was taken next door and upstairs with the rest of my group (made up of nine people, myself included) into a room that was easily 100-150 years old, if not older (yes, OF COURSE I took note of that during this big audition!). The administrative coordinator turned to us and asked if we had brought any water, because of the intense physical exertion that this audition would require. Most of us had not, and there was no water fountain. Fortunately, she later brought us a few cups and a pitcher of water, so none of us passed out!

     The audition started out normally; all of us warmed up, then stood in front of each other to deliver our monologues. We were all cut off during our second monologue so that we could continue it later on during the audition. At that point, the instructor in charge of physical performance took over. He had us remove our shoes and socks to make sure we didn't step on each other, then, with a sharp clap from him and the command to "RUN," we all took off running around the room (which was rather small, and there were nine of us).

     "Let's say you are running at level five, speed up to level SIX *clap!*...SEVEN *clap!*...EIGHT *clap!*" etc.

     When he finally allowed us to stop, he had us STOP mid-run (on a clap), then run in an extremely exaggerated form of slow motion, to force us to control ourselves. Then we ran again, until he had us do the slow motion run again. We were all dying at this point, but the point was to show control over our bodies. Fortunately, we had a bit of a break after this as he had us use what we were feeling the most at the moment (pain, panic, fear, exhaustion) and adopt a stance that exhibited this. Then he had us move around the room and go on a slow journey, motivated by that stance we had taken. So really, it was a great exercise! It was just extremely difficult. I love the way that particular school focuses on how one's body can dictate or motivate the way you deliver a line. He later had us go back to running, then stopping mid-run, then choosing a pose to hold until he clapped again, at which point we had one second to choose another, challenging stance. He clapped a lot, so we had to quickly shift positions, a lot. He also had us start running again, only this time he wanted us to jump and roll on the floor as well, without losing speed. He eventually had us all hold whatever position we were in, then singled us out to individually change our pose on his clap, refocus, then deliver a line of our monologue as motivated by our bodies. Again, it was hard, but it's a practice I would love to continue to work on and learn more about.

     At one point, they did have us do an exercise that was extremely personal and uncomfortable, but we all agreed afterwards that--though it was the most insane request we had ever had in an audition--it freed us up a bit and brought us closer as a team. At the end of the audition we had a true team-building exercise when we were given a list of things to include in a presentation that we were to create in groups within fifteen minutes. Both of our teams did well, but it required a lot of improv, teamwork, stress, and confidence to complete our task. The task, which the instructor agreed was Mission Impossible, was really to showcase how we dealt with those things, so it was ultimately successful.

     Needless to say, we were all thrown for a loop. It was the Hunger Games of auditions, hahaha. There was blood (not mine, but we all ended up with blisters), sweat (TONS), and tears (in context). Not to mention the copious amounts of running, challenging physical poses, sudden changes in our circumstances, a requirement in our final exercise to show our talents, etc. None of us had ever been to an audition like that before (it lasted three hours), but it was great! Extremely difficult, but it was a learning experience that we would all love to continue at that school.

     After the audition, we all decided to go to a pub across the street. Most of us had non-alcoholic beverages, since we all had to go back to the school for our interviews later that afternoon. We all got along really well, and one of the girls (who works for a talent agency) wanted to offer me representation, but couldn't because they had JUST hired a young woman with my type. Ah well. It was fun to spend time with all of them before we parted ways for our interviews. I took the train back to the hotel and had twenty minutes to freshen up and order a taxi to take me back to the school. And here is where my anxiety began (I wasn't really nervous about the audition, believe it or not).

     My driver had the address of the school typed into his GPS. This particular location of RADA was on Chenies Street, which people of Middle Eastern/Indian background pronounce "Chinese Street." But, since he had the address right in front of him and he began to use a similar route to the cab driver that I had before, I didn't question him.

     --Until he took me to China Town and asked me which building I needed.

      My interview was scheduled for 4:00. It was 4:00, and my driver was lost. He then asked ME to get out of the taxi and ask for directions! I told him to call his agency and get directions. I tried to help him by telling him that the school was located behind the British Museum, a major landmark.

     "I don't know..."

     "The British Museum. THE British Museum."

     "I don't know..."

     "YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THE BRITISH MUSEUM IS?!"

     "No, I don't--I know where that--I don't know..."

     "Please call someone."

     "Okay..."

     He eventually got me there. I had left for my interview 30 minutes early. It should only have taken 10 minutes, tops, to get there. It had taken 45. I rushed in, apologizing profusely. The woman in charge of the interview came forward, in shock:

     "MEECAH, where have you BEEN?!"

     I tried to explain about the taxi situation.

     "But what about the rest of you? There were seven others that were with you and none of them have shown up!"

     "...NONE of them?"

     At this point the receptionist came forward and showed me that I was on the schedule for 3:45, not 4:00.

     "I was told to be here at 4:00, and then my driver--"

     "Who told you to be here at four?"

     I gave her the name.

     "What about the others, none have showed up?"

     "They were scheduled for 4:30, 5:00, 5:30, 6:00..."

     Realization dawned. The woman who had made the interview schedule had scheduled us in half hour blocks, when the schedule that was provided for my program normally had us in fifteen minute blocks.

     At that point, all was resolved.

     "Don't apologize, don't apologize, no, don't apologize! It's not your fault! Not your fault at all! It's quite all right!"

     They were very kind and understanding, and completely sympathetic to my cabbie woes. The man who interviewed me said that that was outrageous, since cab drivers in London are supposed to know how to get absolutely everywhere. My interview went very smoothly from there, and the others were called to come in early so that their interviews could be conducted after mine.

     So! It was quite a day. It was very intense, but great. God really paved my way, and even if I don't get into that school, it was a learning experience that I will take with me. Thanks again for your prayers!

Day 1: London Calling!

         Greetings from London!

          I found the right plug converter, so I am now back online and able to blog. Huzzah!

          My journey here went really well. Much better than last year, haha! Last night, I stayed in my hotel, instead of rushing off to the emergency room! It's such a blessing! 

          I feel like I've come home. On the plane, I kept watching the window so that I could see the very first glimpse of the city. The clouds turned from a fluffy white to a flat, grey/brown color, until it was only a veil that thinly covered the rainy city. This year, I knew what I would be seeing: townhouses made of brownstone in a rather uniform style, with driveways and cars in their neat little cul-de-sacs. Masses of green made of a richer color because of all the rain here. Patches of city made of gray, industrial-looking buildings. It doesn't sound special, but it is. 

     London is not a typically beautiful city, but that's part of its charm! It's a city where the old and new live side by side. It's familiar, but entirely different, because of its European background. I can walk down a modern street and see a shop next to a building over three hundred years old! The old buildings are maintained and still in use, of course, so everything melds together with a really unique, European look. And the newer buildings were built out of necessity, since London was blown to bits during the Blitzkrieg of WWII. To me, it's a sign of resilience. London is a city that has survived since the Roman times; it's seen war, plague, persecutions, terror, plots, changing royal families and countries that have held sway in the government, exploration, inventions, epic victories, and so much more. It has been one of the greatest influences of the Western world, and all of its experience can be seen in its capital city.      Today I passed a park surrounded by iron gates. It's one of many public parks, but if you know its history, you know that beneath its green, welcoming surface is a burial pit holding thousands of plague victims from one of the Black Plague outbreaks. It sounds gory, I know, but I find it fascinating! It's also not uncommon to see blue plaques on the brick walls of buildings describing a famous painter or writer that lived there in their time. And, of course, there are the famous buildings that everyone knows, like Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, St. Paul's Cathedral, etc. 

     Needless to say, there's never a shortage of things to do and see, so I try to spend as much time out of my hotel room as possible. Unfortunately, I was so exhausted yesterday that I caved in and took a nap once I finally got to my hotel. On my way there, I got a fascinating history lesson from my friendly cab driver. My hotel wasn't too far from Paddington station, but it took a while to get there because the roads were blocked for the Queen's speech at the Opening of Parliament. English security used to only block off the block surrounding Parliament, but it's extended quite a bit due to their frequent problems with Al-Qaida. 

     I'm used to small rooms in Europe; I'm a small person, so I get used to it quickly. There's enough room for me! Since I don't spend much time in my hotel room, it's even easier to get used to. However, this hotel has redefined the meaning of "small." Below are a few pictures:

It makes me think of Harry Potter's closet.

Yes, that is indeed a small shower next to my door.

And that is the rest of the bathroom...in the opposite corner of the room. 

     It's also extremely loud. Again, you find this in most centrally-located hotels, but this is pretty bad. I'm on the second floor (which is the third floor, in US terms), and I can still hear the footsteps on the street below. I've been able to sleep though, so that's nice. I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm laughing, really. What else can you do? It's so different, and in the end, it's a place to stay with a story to tell, so I'm grateful. 

     Anyway, I dragged myself up from my nap later in the afternoon and decided to take the tube down to Harrod's. 

     I've come to the conclusion that, no matter how much I want to, I will never be able to afford anything in this store. There are amazing gowns, jewels, watches, etc. that I've only ever seen in magazines, or worn by people with millions of dollars. It's all so beautiful! I mean, the fabrics they use alone point out that I am on the bottom rung of their totem pole. Most of the fashion-forward-looking workers there don't bother talking to me--they know I'm not going to buy anything, hahaha. Also, that store is enormous! I've been there twice and I still haven't been able to find my way through the whole thing! I was trying last night when I came across the millinery section. I heard the camera above me twitching and refocusing every few SECONDS as I looked at all of the fascinators and refrained from touching them. I was sure that guards would come and interrogate me if I did! So I forced myself to move on to another section of the store. After that, a lovely Canadian employee found me and told me that the store had closed (I hadn't even heard that announcement! Maybe that's too "common."). She was very friendly and we had a nice conversation on our way out of the store, as she heard that we had accents in common. 

     I was starving by this point, so I stopped at an adorable little bakery for a chocolate croissant, then at my favorite food chain, Pret-A-Manger, for a take-home dinner. It's affordable, it's tasty, and they use fresh, natural ingredients for food that's made that day and disposed of that day. Yum!

     Well, that's all for day one! I hope you enjoyed it. More to come!

     Cheers!