Friday, July 3, 2009
The London Buffet
When we signed up to do London Study Abroad we were thrilled that we would have seven weeks "to do all we wanted to do." Hmmmmm. There is no way in the world we can do 1/3 of all we wanted to do here. We are staring at a mouth-watering buffet of options that we'd love to sample, even gorge ourselves with, but have only the energy and time for assorted appetizers and desserts. Partaking of the main course would be like Thanksgiving, where you have to lay down for a while to digest even though you want to eat more. That is London.
In this photo we are in front of the Globe Theater, yes the very one, where we saw As You Like It on Monday night.
We have been here nearly two weeks and we have done an amazing amount of things. We have five weeks left to see the plays we want to see, sample all the ethnic food, and visit more museums, cathedrals, abbeys and palaces. We live next to Hyde Park, but if you go in every direction there is more, more, more. In the evenings we walk past cafes that we promise to come back and sample. Logistically, there is no way. But we hope.
We have walked miles and miles around and my feet hurt, despite the pains I took to get the perfect walking shoe (see earlier email.) I soak them at night. But I can't think of spending even a day resting and recouping because I don't want to miss out on a summer day in London. The heat has been stifling, the hottest summer in years, but we are in London, and we are in London.
Darren has the added stress of having to actually work here when he wants to be out and about doing all. I know, there is no pity for the poor Americans who only have the summer for London. But I tell you, consuming London to it's fullest takes a lifetime, a veritable lifetime, one in which you will never cross the threshold to satisfaction.
And then there's Bath, Stourhead, Cambridge, Canterbury, Dover, Portsmouth and Edinburgh OUTSIDE London that are on the schhhhhedule (as Londoners pronouce it).
This summer we are eating one just one strawberry (and British strawberries are oh, so luvley) off the fruit platter that is London.