Song of the Day

Ray LaMontagne - Burn

yes, and try to ignore
all this blood on the floor,
it's just this heart on my sleeve
that's bleeding

Destination: White Cliffs of Dover

Saturday was my first official day of Reading Week. I capitalize Reading Week for two reasons: one, it's an official week dedicated to catching/getting ahead on assignments for students; and two, because it marks the halfway point of the term.

It's a bit surreal to think that something I've thought about doing since I was eleven years old is already halfway over. It's one of those things that you know is going to happen but you still expect it to just... not. Like graduating from high school. Getting married. Losing someone you love.

Reading Week can be a Big Deal for some - the majority of the people I've met are off traveling around Europe with their respective friends and family. But I'm still here in London, writing this post on a Tuesday morning. On Saturday, however, I made the trip down to Dover via train for the day.

Dover is a tiny little port city in Kent on the southeastern coast of the English mainland. When I told my friends I was going to see the white cliffs, they looked at me in confusion. They had never heard of them before, which in turn took me by surprise. Surely they'd seen the pictures, right? The white standing cliffs with the beautiful light blue ocean crashing against their resilient form, and the sky so close in color that the horizon blends into the sea? But no, they were clueless.

It takes about an hour by train and the views are beautiful; there was a moment when the train vanished in a tunnel under something but then reemerged into the cold, 9 AM morning to reveal a beautiful view of the seaside. It's one of those Very Beautiful Things in the Universe you can only really experience as a surprise; you never expect to be gifted with the serenity of the ocean, but then it appears and you're stunned into silence.

Departing the station and finding the cliffs wasn't easy. It's about a 2-mile walk from Dover Priory Station to the beginning of the incline, but there's marked pathways and a beautiful scenic stroll just along the shore. I felt like I was inside one of those sound machines--the ones with the cartoonish seagull squawks and the over-exaggerated ocean sounds.

I made it up the cliffs with relative ease, albeit huffing and puffing as I climbed. But the views immediately made everything worth it. It's like, every time you think you've found the best view, you can keep walking along the edge of the cliff and you'll find an even more breathtaking spot. Everything is blanketed in a sea of the greenest, freshest grass imaginable just up until you get to the edge of the cliff. The white rocks of the cliff faces are such a stark contrast to the grass that you'd think someone painted them. But the cliffs give way to the stunning English channel that goes on forever in most places; there's a stretch of land just visible on the other side--that's the French coastline.

I felt like I was on the Edge of the World.

Now, I must put a disclaimer here that I was by myself on this trip; that being said, I encourage more people to do things by themselves. While the company of another person is welcoming (comforting, even), being by yourself only encourages you to be more aware of your environment. All of your attention is on what surrounds you. When that's the case, you can really see everything.

I stood on the cliffs for about two hours. This was my Big Deal, you see; this is what I came to experience. I asked a stranger to take photos of me--for aesthetic reasons, of course--and then I had a delicious slice of apple cake and a cup of tea at the visitors' center. Then I walked the two miles back to the station, got on my train, and headed back to St. Pancras International in London.

Song of the Day

One Direction - Home 

i was stumbling,
looking in the dark
with an empty heart

Song of the Day

Little May - Boardwalks

Somebody told me you were leaving town,
I swear I never thought you'd be the one who'd let me down

ignore this tbh

42 days.

I'm nearing the halfway mark in my adventure abroad, and it's slowly starting to seem less like an exciting journey of self-discovery and more like a meticulous balance between eagerness and exhaustion. You see all these people posting their photos on Facebook showing their trips to Ireland, France, Germany, and the like. I personally came to London for London itself. I've gained so much knowledge about the city and the people and the transport and the way of life for commuters. But what you see in pictures is only 20 percent of it.

The truth of the matter is that I'm tired.

Some days I don't want to get out of bed because I can't wake up to the sound of my family messing about in the kitchen. That's another 20 percent of my days. Another 30 comes from me actually wanting to get up and explore and go places that I've only dreamed about. And yet, I haven't left London.

Studying abroad seems like an incredible opportunity - and it is. I don't want to diminish its excitement for people who think this is something they'd want to do in the future, but the reality of the situation is that it's not all butterflies and rainbows all the time. I'm past the adrenaline rush and now I'm suffering from a severe crash in energy and motivation. It's life, I guess.

I have the next week off for Reading Week and I'm going to try to recharge myself and power through the next 6 weeks before I'm headed home. I'm going to the White Cliffs of Dover on Saturday; hopefully I'll return with a better outlook and a refreshed mindset.

ak x

Song of the Day

City and Colour - Northern Wind

i'm the darkest hour just before the dawn,
and i'm slowly sinking into the slough of despond

Hampstead Heath

Though it's only one month into my stay here in London, I've narrowed down my top three favorite places to be.

3) My bed. Because, obviously.

2) On a double decker bus. There's something about moving idly through London traffic while still getting to see so many different sides to the city that's oddly calming.

1) Hampstead.

I went to Hampstead again today, this time venturing a little bit farther north than I was anticipating. Obviously the area is huge, but I never imagined I'd be able to spend over three hours just walking around. I ended up going to Hampstead Heath, the park that spans over 300 acres and has some of the highest points in the city.

It's a quaint area, filled with greenery and man-made bathing lakes that are occupied by various birds at any given moment. Patches of forest are as equally scattered as are sprawling fields of grass. You'll find dog-walkers and runners and couples and the occasional photographer toting bags of equipment for those picturesque views. I walked blindly, not really sure of where exactly I wanted to go. Similar to Primrose Hill, there's a peak in the park that offers a breathtaking view of the neighboring towns as well as the London skyline. But this one was so much more.

I spent two hours in Hampstead Heath. Taking photos, finding little nooks and crannies that may have yet to be documented on a map. My boots were thoroughly muddied by the end of it, but when I sat down on the Northern line train to go home, they were the least of my worries.

Song of the Day

Ben Howard - Conrad

We will never be the change
To the weather and the sea
And you knew that