Green and Pleasant Land

Lose yourself in England

2007-11-01T17:05:00.000-07:00

England and Literature 2007
"It is an inexpressible pleasure to know a little of the world," writes Richard Steele. In the study abroad program "England and Literature" students will experience the landscapes of romantic, Victorian and some 20th Century writers. We will begin in the north--a visit to Edinburgh and the home of Burns, Scott, and Stevenson. We will hike through the Lake District, where we will study the Romantic poets, who laid the foundation for most Victorian writing. From there we will explore the Brontes' moors; George Eliot's midland farmsteads and industrial towns; Shakespere's home village; Oxford, where Tolkein and C.S. Lewis walked and talked; Austen's village; the Isle of Wight, Tennyson's home for much of his life; hardy's Wessex, King arthur's Legendary birthplace at Tintagel (Arthurian legend was central to the Victorian concept of chivalry); and the London of Dickens, Woolf, and other writers.

Day One

2007-10-31T01:10:00.000-07:00

BLOG- DAY ONE
I chose to write today partly because I’m one of those who isn’t still jet lagged, and partly because I just have to write about my experience in Edinburgh. I’ve never been over seas before and the experience is far too amazing not to write about. I flew in early on the 26th. We just had to stay awake or we’d never get rid of jet lag, so those of us who were here walked around Edinburgh almost all day. Edinburgh is an interesting city because it’s a complete amalgamation between new urban and old classic-there are paved streets with lights and twisting cobblestone roads that combine and meet each other all over. The drivers there are crazy-every once in a while I thought we were going to die but the backs of the cars are all flat and they do drive on the opposite side of the road so it wasn’t ever anything really dangerous. That and I think my depth perception was off with the jet lag.

One thing I learned is that many of the cliché’s we see on British television are fairly true in Edinburgh at least. Most of the people I saw were older and carrying canes and wearing those old plaid hats, or really young and sporting interesting fashions and-in one case- I bright pink Mohawk that rivals the one the kid had on American Idol a few weeks ago. What was interesting was the mix of people who are either in a complete hurry to get somewhere and not looking at anything, or the people who were lying down or reading in the park just below Edinburgh castle-some people hardly seemed to notice the majesty of the city and others really seemed to revel in it. Coming from a relatively small town with a rather boring history myself (or so I think)-I find it hard to comprehend the idea that a city like Edinburgh would ever be normal, but so it goes.

Today we took the train to Glasgow and then a bus to the airport to meet up with the rest of our group. We took a hike around the ‘bonny bonny lakes of Loch Lomond”. It was eight miles long and none of us had eaten much of anything since breakfast at eight that morning. I’d had a Mars Bar and half a granola bar, but nothing else. About half way through the hike we were supposed to get lunch but after a mix up of new people arriving we didn’t end up getting lunch. In other words-it was to be our first interesting experience of the trip. John had warned us that we would get lost. I’m not sure which I prefer-if I would rather get lost on a full stomach or hike on an empty one. Needless to say, eating dinner at eight thirty tonight was heavenly and we were all extremely grateful for our meal. I spent most of my time hiking on my own. I love to talk except for when I’m hiking. When I’m hiking I like to spend time on my own and enjoy nature on my own terms. Now we’re gathered in the commons area of the hostel gathered around my computer and watching Robin Hood (for the record-it was not my idea. . . but I didn’t argue against it). Soon we’ll all go to bed, wake up, and start day two of hiking. We’ll see if I’m still this inspired after the “brutish” hike up and down Ben Lomond.
-Joni Newman

Day Two

2007-10-30T01:11:00.000-07:00

Today we climbed Ben Lomond. Perfect weather for it. The sky was empty of clouds; down on the loch it was warm, even hot. In fact early in the hike, we met a couple from Eastern Scotland who had seen how good the weather was going to be and drove across to hike the mountain.
We walked from the hostel, which is a stone building, a former hunting lodge of some lord. We walked along the lane next to the silver loch. Then we climbed through the pine forest, the group chattering to each other, happy to be out together hiking a mountain. We came to a long stretch where the pines had been harvested at the stump. From above they looked like a field of toadstools. We saw the closer edge of the grey peak high above us. Quite a few Scottish people were out hiking as well. Some of them were peak runners, trotting up the trail and then remarkably soon running back down.
It’s a steep climb and some of us (all of us) struggled to work our way along the rocky trail. We ate the lunches we had made that morning, sandwiches, crisps, apples or oranges, biscuits, blackcurrant juice, and Cadbury chocolate bars. Most people had taken a small bar, but Evelyn had a huge one, brought to share, she said. She did share most of it.
About one thirty I passed my son, Chris, coming back down. I reached the summit not long after that. Everyone had stretched out on the grass trying to get out of the wind. I ate my lunch while we waited for the others. We saw the entire reach of Loch Lomond, broken in the south by islands. The same man from Eastern Scotland told us that the islands had been heavily inhabited long ago. Vikings portaged a ship over the mountains from the inlet and attached the islands.
The wind blew hard on top, harder than I’ve felt the wind blow for some time. As we descended, the wind kept blowing but it became quickly warm. I walked down with Liz M., who has a broken arm. She was careful going down, anxious about falling and hurting her arm.
Soon we were back at the hostel, where we ate chicken noodle soup and talked about what the trip meant to each of us. Some talked about how difficult it was and that they felt happy that they kept going. Some talked about the beauty of it; and how the Scots have fought again and again to keep this land. Some talked about the enjoyment of talking to each other.
All in all, it was a good day.

John Bennion

Day Three

2007-10-29T01:12:00.000-07:00

2007-04-29 Sunday blog

Karla Bennion

Where is the chill and misty Scotland I know? Donna and I rose early and went out to the loch while most of our troupe slept late. We would have had Sunday meeting in the morning, but John took the van back to the Glasgow Airport to pick up Hannah and Kendall of the film crew. So we slept or walked in the bright morning. Donna and I used our amazing digital cameras to photograph plants: the small—yellow primrose, tiny violets, wild hyacinth (not called “English bluebell” in Scotland); and the large—oak, birch, holly, and conifer (planted in rows on the hillside). The rowan tree was covered with red berries and leaves so glossy green that they reflected the light like mirrors, and from a distance to our middle-aged eyes, bloomed in blazing white and flame. The invasive rhododendrons were just in bud. We saw one solitary magenta blossom.
We partook of the sacrament on the green hillside behind the Rowardennan lodge, the birds and the breeze accompanying our singing. Rose, Jordan, and Ann spoke of the atonement. As we learn each other we love each other. This is why John and I keep coming back.

Scafel Pyke

2007-10-28T02:53:00.000-07:00

“Scafell Pike, Scafell Pike
What a mis’rable little hike!”
-Kim Roberts (put in poem form by Hillary S.)

Though some enjoyed this hike more than others, all will agree that it was a memorable experience. We set out bright and early from our hostel on the banks of Wastwater Lake/Pond and headed upwards. “Up” is the best description of what we did—the first part of the hike was pretty darn vertical. Legs shaking, muscles quaking, minds and wills straining toward the Everlasting Yea, we toiled up the rocky cliffs of Scafell Pike. After multiple stops to regroup and motivate one another with songs and witty anecdotes, we finally reached the top. There were lots of cool fort thingies that we camped out in to protect us from the wind. Liz and Bess, aka Ed the Whelp (spelling is approximated), braved the tempestuous winds in order to frolic at the top with their magic whistles. Our descent began with a wild field of sharp rocks that nearly made us into shredded wheat. After that things smoothed out to the point where several of the group felt inspired to become one with nature through skinny-dipping. The rest of the group, uninformed of the wild revelry going on up the river, sat meekly writing in their journals until they got bored and went ahead. We all re-grouped further down and read our journals to each other by a scenic bridge before striking out again in search of food and shelter. After wading through much tribulation and sheep dung, as well waiting for many years near a lovely little pub, we finally got taxis to our hostel and ate our dinner around 9ish. Then we all collapsed. The End.

Victory!

Wait a minute...John said this hike was 17 miles. 5 miles to the summit, so that leaves how many downhill!?

The view from Wastwater Youth Hostel

Lunch prep in the hostel

After The Long One

2007-10-27T03:07:00.000-07:00

Keswick
Map

Scafel Pyke is by far the greatest physical challenge we have to face on the England and Literature Study abroad program. Because of its vertical climb and sheer intensity John and Karla schedule two days of rest in a sleepy little town of Keswick, England. The only problem is that Keswick is surrounded by so many natural and man-made wonders that it is practically a sin to put your feet up.

Durwentwater

Keswick Youth Hostel

Stonehenge's Forgotton Cousin

2007-10-26T03:11:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 2 May 2007

Keswick

Today started off a little slowly for those of us who had participated in the pagan May Day festivities at the stone circle last night. My hands were a little singed from the ball of fire that we’d been throwing around and there was sheep poo on our shoes. We woke up and had breakfast in the restaurant in the hostel and then all walked up to the stone circle. It looks different in the daylight. There were footprints in all of the poo piles on the ground. Foolish pagans. We had class and discussed essays by Annie Dillard and our own lovely and talented Spencer Green. Then we danced around inside the stone circle.

After class we all went to the Keswick Museum and saw the famed mummified cat and an enormous xylophone made of stone, among other treasures. This afternoon was free time; some of us did laundry, napped, wrote, read, etc. I wandered around town with a few others; we checked email, had lunch, had a chocolate shot (melted chocolate in a chocolate cup…darn near life-changing), wandered into a few stores, and then rented a rowboat and rowed out Derwent Water. And interestingly enough, when a sign reading “no docking” is posted on the dock of a privately owned island, they actually mean no docking on the entire island. Just a bit of advice for those of you who plan to visit England in the future.

Dinner at the hostel, and more free time tonight. Journal, blogging, homework and mental preparation for Helvellyn tomorrow. Good night.

Liz Knight

Class at Castlerig Circle

Sheep amongst the stones

One of the many delights of Keswick is a beautiful stone circle in the middle of a pasture. Unlike the famous Stonehenge, Castlerig Circle has no tourist guides, fees, or fences. Our class cozied up to these Druidic wonders for an hour or so of class.

Helyellyn

2007-10-25T03:25:00.000-07:00

Bessyboot’s Helvellyn:
Map

In our preparation class John showed us pictures of the Helvellyn Hike. He told us to bring layers of clothing and that we would “be the coldest we will ever be.” Accordingly, each of us stuffed as many warm sweaters and hats and gloves into our already overstuffed suitcases, which we have proceeded to haul in and out of every hostel over the past week. Wednesday had been a warm, sunny day in Keswick. Thursday promised to be the same. Not sure whether to believe my internal thermostat or John’s unyielding persistence that I would never be so cold as on Helvellyn, I wadded thermal pants, thick fleece sweater, rain and wind jacket, and a second layering sweater into my backpack. A taxi driver on Tuesday, taking us from the end of our Scafell Peak hike to our hostel in Keswick, had laughed mockingly when we told him we were planning to climb Helvellyn, and told us to drink and bring lots of water. Fearing this was a warning in antithesis to John’s, I packed full bottles of water.

We drove in Taxi’s to the trail head. While waiting for everyone to arrive Liz Knight led us in interpretive dancing, instructing us to strike a pose or dance move to accompany a word or phrase. John’s usual reaction was the screeching pigeon yoga pose. With joints and muscles loosened, we set off on the trail, which quickly revealed itself to be an unceasing staircase. The Cumbrian sheep we have become so familiar with again decorated the steep hillside, their dirtied grey bodies blending with the many boulders. They stared at us when our path cut too near their chosen grassy dinner, wary yet indignant at our intrusion.

My question while climbing was: “Why don’t the British believe in switchbacks?” The trail occasionally swayed off a direct course up, but rarely. Or so it felt. Rocks had been arranged into stairs and walkways upward. It was somewhat demoralizing to realize that no one was even trying to pretend this hike wasn’t just a long staircase. Soon, the taxi driver’s advice was greatly appreciated, and my backpack, stuffed with all clothes I could remove and remain decent, created an imprint of wetness on my shirt.

Eventually, though, we reached the top ridge. One side of this cut steeply away, and indeed it was a bit windy. But with the simple addition of a windbreaker any coldness was obliterated. This wasn’t bad, if it was the coldest I was ever to be. (I judged too soon.) We ate our lunches along this ridge, our legs practically dangling off the all but vertical grassy slope.

John left his lunch to talk to the other hikers around the top. He learned that in the winter a cornice builds up at the ridge. Once, a hiker’s dog fell through the cornice. The man, who loved his dog so much, went after his dog. The man died. Looking down the sheer drop, ravens calling and soaring on the updraft from one side to the other, it was not difficult to believe that such a fall was deadly. The rocks we knocked down, along with the apple cores we tossed to the sheep, fell and tumbled until we lost sight of them.

Before we could start our decent down the other side toward Grasmere, we had some items of business to attend to. We had another hiker take a photo of our group. We had to engage in a group-sized barbaric yop. And, of course, Aed the Whelp, the group’s own band, made one of their original performances of tin whistle playing and dancing.

The path we traveled down passed over a billowy, wavy sea of grasses and mosses. I believe I was the only foolish enough to try rolling down—foolish because of unexpected prickles, steepness, and dizziness. After a last steep drop of switchbacks to a lake, Grisedale Tarn, we stopped for cooling off, journal writing, and circle talk. Chris Bennion was already in the water when we got to it. After soaking our feet for a few minutes, a few of us girls decided that boys were unfairly advantaged, and that it was time we engaged in a small rebellion at the lake. It was after a slippery, slimy, scrappy scramble over the algae covered rocks that John’s warning finally became relevant. The water was chilled, and for a while there was a chorus of screaming, yelping women underneath Helvellyn, colder than we would ever be in our lives.

After cooling off quite successfully we did blind drawings of rocks and other people. We wrote in our journals and slept; Jordan caught fish ingeniously with a sandwich bag. After a circle talk we hiked around the lake to a pass above it, through one of the dry-stack stone walls dissecting the mountains, and down the ravine on the other side.

At the end of the ravine we entered a beautiful community. The cottages looked preserved from another time, another reality. I’m sure I’m not the only one to have felt like I was entering another reality yesterday. Perhaps John was introduced to the possibility of a warm hike up to Helvellyn without clouds or rain. Our whole group entered the unknown reality of warm, alluring, but burning English sun. Many of us are splotchy, red, puffy, sore. But it is a small price to pay for admittance to the realm and views of Helvellyn.

Bess Hayes

May 4th Wordsworth's Grassmere

2007-10-24T03:38:00.000-07:00

Grasmere
Map

May 4th is another beautiful day in England. Rhododendrons blaze in vibrant colors of orange, yellow, fuchsia and red. Yellow Welsh Poppies cling to the base of the rock walls along the roads and English bluebells swish across the fields. Sheep with new lambs are everywhere in the pastures. As we walk and hike we meet people walking with their dogs. Dogs seem to be better behaved here than in Utah. A soft word here and there controls them.

We have missed the blooming of the daffodils but have found them in Wordsworth’s poem. We did yoga this morning near the Wordsworth Daffodil Garden surrounding William’s family graves. Near the Wordsworth graves is the grave of Isaas Usher “who died at Thorny How, Grasmere April 9, 1895, Age 83 Years.” Thorny How Youth Hostel is our current place of residence. Did he die in my room?

Dove Cottage was once an Inn in Grasmere called The Dove and Olive Branch. The Wordsworth’s lived in it for 8 years. Because it was built during the time of “window taxes” it has small and few windows. The ground floor is very dark due to the dark paneling on the walls and dark wooden floors. Rooms upstairs were plastered and painted and are much lighter. The darkness somehow relaxes and embraces you but one wonders how the sewing and cooking were accomplished. WW hated smoky places and so he heated with coal, a less used fuel of the time. Our lovely and knowledgeable guide told us the family moved “just up the road” to Rydal Mount. Forgetting the meaning of “just up the road” in Great Britain, I was looking forward to a short to moderate walk. After a one hour hike along Coffin Road (so called because it was the road used to carry coffins up to Rydal), we came to the much larger, gracious and well lit home the Wordsworth family still owns. The family uses the house and kindly allows visitors, even when they are in residence.

Some students returned the way we came and others hiked back going along the shores of Rydal Water and Grasmere Lake. That made 10 miles of walking more or less. After dinner we enjoyed free time again. All in all a great day.

Donna Jorgensen

Grassmere: part deux

2007-10-23T03:49:00.000-07:00

May 5th

Today we had to leave the hostel a lot earlier than usual to be able to catch the ferry on time later. It was hard for some of us to get up, and I can put a little push for my room-mates here because we were the FIRST ones down to eat! Go us! (Thank you to the parents of Kim, Katherine, Laura, Anna, Rachel and me, for creating kids who even if they HATE waking up, appreciate the rumbles of early morning hunger.) It was colder today, and a little overcast, the first day that we’ve had that has been like this, but it didn’t rain. I’m a little sad about that actually. I’ve been looking forward to a little English rain.

We went to Ruskin’s grave in Coniston and a man named Mike Humphries talked to us about Ruskin and the significance of the grave stone, which was really interesting to learn about. It’s a lot more impressive than Wordsworth’s; a large stone pillar covered with carvings. We went to the museum in the town and got to look at a lot of his art work, (I walked outside and to the left and found a second hand book sale next door and found a 1910 addition of Nicholas Nickleby for 3 pounds! I thought I would choke and when I showed Joni, because of course I bought it, I thought she could cry.)

Afterwards we went across the lake on a ferry to Ruskin’s home called Brantwood. There we had our class discussion about him, led by Katherine. Katherine, I have realized over the time of this trip, is one of the BEST people to go to when you want to think deeply. The questions she asks are perfect to start discussions, and the class she led was amazing. Everyone came out ready to walk around his house, wonderfully inspired and sure that he was one of the best English writers and critics to exist. Thank you Katherine for your passion!

After his house, and eating lunch on the lawn, we took a long time walking through the woods to a spot where hidden, strewn about, were lots of statues. Some of us got tired of it a little early and walked into town to the visitor’s center where we used the toilet and had ice cream. (And Kim had cake to celebrate the birthday of her goldfish back at home.) The ice cream here is WONDERFUL, especially the toffee flavors. I think I could live off of it….

Now we are at our hostel playing games, writing post cards, doing homework, getting interviewed by film people, sneaking down to the other hostel to take over their internet, writing our talks for the fireside we’re doing tomorrow, and waiting for a dinner, whose smells are wafting through the waiting room and making all of our mouths water. Thank you Kendell!
A fabulous day all in all, though we are all feeling a little overhauled, and looking forward to church tomorrow, and next week! We miss you and love you all!

Anonymous

Kendal

2007-10-22T06:08:00.000-07:00

Map

(Sunday May 6th)

Church and fireside in Kendal

Sunday morning we packed up and said goodbye to our little hostel in Grasmere. It was fun to see everyone in their church clothing as we waited for the bus to come, although some of us were almost unrecognizable without our bandanas and hiking shoes.

Once we arrived in Kendal, we went straight to the town hall where the branch holds church every week. We nearly doubled their numbers with our group of 27! But they are hoping to get their own church building soon, which will be a wonderful thing for them. All the members were incredibly welcoming and happy to have us there. They asked us to sing a hymn for Sacrament meeting before the testimonies (we picked hymn #97 “Lead, Kindly Light”), and it actually sounded pretty good. It was very uplifting to hear the strong testimonies of faith that were shared during the meeting. I was reminded that it really is an incredible blessing to be a student at BYU and how much of an opportunity we have to share the light and knowledge that we possess. It hit me what a huge responsibility we each have, especially on this trip, to live as representatives of the school and the Church. But I think this group is up to the challenge.

We spent part of the afternoon taking shelter from the rain and wind up at Parr Castle. It’s so incredible to me that every where we go there are ruined castles and other remnants of hundreds of years of history. Later we walked to the YWCA for our “Break the Fast” and fireside with the ward members. We were very, very, very happy to eat dinner. Our fireside was centered around a Pioneer theme—both the British pioneers that many of us are descended from and the first-generation pioneers in the Church today. We discovered that there wasn’t any kind of piano at the YWCA, so Jordan whipped out his guitar and in a short time had worked out a great accompaniment to our group numbers. I was really impressed with the talks that were shared and with everyone who helped with the music. I think the spirit was there and I was really grateful to be a part of it.

Then back on the bus and off to Preston, where we stayed the night in the temple accommodations. We took one look at our clean rooms and huge kitchen facilities and promptly decided that we should stay here for the rest of the trip. If only, if only. It was a great place to end our Sunday.

Baptisms for the Dead, Janet’s Foss, and Malham Cove

2007-10-21T03:57:00.000-07:00

May 8, 2007
Map

This morning we went to the Preston Temple. The Scotts with whom we had Family Home Evening we there, and it was nice to see their familiar faces. Our group felt a connection to many of the names for which we did the ordinances. One Sarah Ray was confirmed as well as many people with surnames from Karla’s ancestry.

After taking a coach from Preston to Malham, we went for a short hike—2 or 3 miles—first to Janet’s Foss (i.e. waterfall) and then to Malham Cove. The first part of the hike took us through cow pastures and fields of garlic. We had fun exploring the caves at the waterfall, one of which looked perfect for a re-enactment of Dead Poets’ Society. Some of the more adventurous among us climbed up to the ledge behind the fall. From there, we hiked to Malham Cove, a rock cliff created thousands of years ago by a glacier. Acid rain ate through the rock to create pathways that make it look something like a giant brain—the brain of all England perhaps.

The end of the night was uneventful as many of us spent hours in line for free internet access at the pub. We had wonderful beef stew for dinner and then time for homework and friendly philosophizing.

Pennine Way to Elslack.

2007-10-20T04:00:00.000-07:00

9 May 2007
Map

We began the morning with a hearty breakfast prepared by Brooke, Spencer, Joni, and Kate. Most everyone didn’t enjoy the sausage, but I thought it was just fine - nice and greasy like sausage should be.

Our class discussion after breakfast was very interesting. We discussed Coleridge’s Kubla Khan, Emily Brönte’s poetry, the effects of industrialization on Victorian England, some of the social impact of Darwin’s Origin of Species, and our Christian responsibilities to the poor. It’s interesting how people from the same faith can have differing ideas in that topic. There’s no need to discuss those ideas in this forum.

The hike today was about 12 miles over the hills and dales of the Penine Way, a long trail spanning about 270 miles of English countryside. The views of the valley were quite astounding as we walked from sheep pasture to sheep pasture. It’s been nice seeing all the little lambs frolicking in the meadows. Seems a bit magical even.

We stopped in a village whose name escapes me at the moment and visited an old church, St. Andrews I believe it was called.

Luckily we escaped the rain which started as soon as we walked into the parking lot of our hotel in Elslack. We’ve certainly been blessed when it comes to weather

Jordan Faux

Warwick Castle

2007-10-19T10:57:00.000-07:00

12 May 2007

We started out the day with a nice breakfast at the Warwick Arms Hotel. We then walked to the enchanted Warwick Castle where we imagined ourselves living the fairy tale dream. My favorite part of the castle was the “Royal Weekend Party” attraction. There were great halls and fancy dining areas all filled with Victorian décor. The idea of having all of my friends over for an entire weekend dressed in elegant gowns, dancing with the most handsome Dukes of Warwick filled my imagination. It reminded me of the movie Fantasia and the music played in my mind the whole day.

I was amazing by the intelligent structure and the age of the castle. Some parts of the castle date back to the year 950 AD. Throughout history it was overtaken by different groups of people which greatly influence the development of styles and renovations. We saw John Bennion play the hamster in the wheel that fired the world’s largest trebuchet.
We were entertained by the peacocks strutting around the royal gardens and entertained by the “Birds of Prey” show before the rain took us back indoors. I realized at that moment how grateful I am that I don’t live in the day when I would have had to live in a drafty stone castle, even if it meant royalty. I was even more grateful for modern conveniences like the washing machine as we did our laundry in the afternoon and the local Warwick Laundromat.

Ann Keller

Victorian Blast from the Past and Warwick

2007-10-19T02:33:00.000-07:00

Friday 11 May 2007
Map

Today we went to Ironbridge and we visited a Victorian city. Our first stop in the town was at the bank to exchange our British pounds for Victorian money. In town you can buy things from the little shops: there was a candy store, a grocery and a pharmacy among others. It was fun to learn about candle making, machine making, transportation, mining and more. There was a school, a photography studio, a tavern and even a carnival! I walked into a little cottage and I was welcomed into the ‘squatter’s cottage’ by a man in costume who told me what living conditions were like back then. And true to Victorian style, the water in the river was brown.

After visiting the city we rode the coach to Warwick. We walked to the LDS church and Terry Gifford read us some of his poetry. He believes that we should merge art and science so most of his poems dealt with environmental issues. He was wonderful to listen to—mesmerizing, entertaining and very thought provoking.

Stratford Mecca

2007-10-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

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Today we went to the semi-official Mecca of literature students across the globe: Stratford-upon-Avon, the birthplace of Shakespeare.

We started out the day by walking to Anne Hathaway’s cottage, about a mile outside of Stratford proper. From the maps that I had looked at, I expected the cottage to be standing isolated in a field somewhere, but the path we took led us right through the suburbs. Next to the cottage stands a row of little houses, probably still inhabited by ordinary people, living modern lives next to the house where 400 years ago Shakespeare courted his wife.

Shakespeare was 18 when he married Anne Hathaway, aged 26—a very strange arrangement in Elizabethan times. Anne returned to the cottage after Shakespeare’s death, and the Hathaways continued to live there until into the 20th century, when the house was turned into a tourist attraction. The character of the house is still much the same as it would have been when Shakespeare lived there. Two of the beds in the house actually belonged to Anne Hathaway’s family. They were canopied to prevent the things nesting in the thatched roof from falling down onto the family in their sleep.

Behind the house was an orchard and tree garden dedicated to Shakespeare. Many trees mentioned in the bard’s works were planted in the garden with a plaque next to them containing the relevant text. As we ate our lunch there, we were surprised to find one of the benches in the garden dedicated to Eugene England, a former professor at BYU, and his wife—quite the coincidence.

Our next stop was what the tourist posters apocalyptically referred to as the Birthplace (always with a capital letter). The house where Shakespeare was born has been a tourist attraction for a long time—an old window pane from the birth room displayed in the museum contained scratched signatures from tourists including Thomas Carlyle and Walter Scott. The museum we walked through before the house was interesting, although most of the artifacts were things of the time period but not directly related to Shakespeare. For such a famous author, it’s surprising how little remains of his actual life and how much we have to piece together from probabilities and traditions. The birthplace house itself was interesting: Shakespeare’s father was a glove maker and fairly wealthy. The walls were covered in an early form of wallpaper—hand-painted, stiffened linen tacked onto the wall.

After an afternoon of shopping and eating in Stratford, we met up again at the Courtyard Theatre of the Royal Shakespeare Company to see King Lear starring Ian McKellen. The performance was amazing and dramatic—Ian McKellen easily enabled you to completely believe he was an old man gradually losing his mind, and you felt the absolute anguish of not being able to trust your own senses. All the girls had crushes on the actor playing Edmund, even though his character is absolutely rotten. The fool played the spoons along with his songs, which was fun to watch. The set was magnificent: a stone edifice covered with red curtains which fell when Lear fled out into the storm to transform the stone into a crumbling ruin. The last scene of the play was especially moving, as Lear’s total grief at the death of Cordelia led us to wonder about the power of faith to counteract the total devastation at the loss of a child.

Liz Muir

Oxford

2007-10-17T11:00:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 16th May
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Today we took the coach from Stow-on-Wold to the beautiful monstrosity that is Blenheim Palace. Some people in our group have talked about how hard it is to write about mountains, I think it’s hard to write about buildings. Buildings like Blenheim are nearly impossible to write about because there is so much there. The size of it all, the huge ceilings, the story, it’s difficult to know where to start. To be honest I felt rather caged in the house, in spite of the open places, because everything was so busy. No wall was left uncovered.

The house is still used by the current Lord of Marlborough who was in residence when we were there but didn’t show his face. His son is in line to inherit this position when his father kicks it, and his grandson (an earl at 13 years old), will inherit after that. It is so strange for me to think of a 13 year old-my youngest brother’s age-being in line to inherit that. Hearing about royalty and nobility is fine and great on paper but the reality of it all is, for lack of a better word, weird.

The gardens of the palace were beautiful (if entirely man made). We made jokes about how all the moss on the rocks was painted on by talented artists and all the wildflowers were individually placed, but we really did enjoy the grounds in spite of the rain.

After Blenheim we took a bus to Oxford, much to my glee. I’m a bit of a Tolkien/Lewis junkie and the chance to literally walk in their footsteps. Oxford is an incredible city that is completely taken over by the many colleges that make up what Oxford is today. 20,000 of the residents are a part of the school that has a 6:1 student to teacher ratio. Some of the classes are taught on a 1:1 ratio which made me shiver a little. Almost as soon as we got to Oxford a group of us ran off to Christ Church College to get a tour. For the Harry Potter buffs out there-several scenes from the movie were filmed there, especially in the first two movies. The scene when McGonagall welcomes the first years on the staircase, the courtyard, and the great hall, which is based on the great hall at Christ Church. Liz Muir and I were pretty happy about that as anyone who knows the lengths of our obsession will appreciate!

My favorite part of the day, though, was Evensong. We gathered at the end of the day in the chapel at Christ Church to listen to the traditional sermon and men’s choir. The sermon consists of several Psalms sung by the choir, readings from the Old and New Testaments, and prayers. The prayer was an interesting contrast to the rest of the very traditional meeting as it was so modern. I love that we are able to find God and spiritual experiences outside of our normal meetings. It was a wonderful experience. I love Oxford.

Joni Newman

A second look at Oxford

2007-10-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

May 18th

We had a lovely day in Oxford with lovely weather as well. We started with a group tour of the city with a guide from Blackwell’s Bookstore. We walked around to many of the colleges and learned about which famous actors, writers, etc went to each college.

One interesting fact is that New College was built in the 14th century. It was new then and has maintained the name ever since.

We saw old homes of Tolkien and C. S. Lewis and the early architectural products of Christopher Wren (best known for St. Paul’s Cathedral in London). The buildings were stunning and the weather, though it started out rainy, cleared up and we had a nice sunny day.

The rest of the day was designated as free time. Many of us explored Christ Church which is where we attended Evensong the night before. Many scenes from Harry Potter movies were filmed there including the Great Hall and when Harry and the other First Years climbing up the stairs to be sorted in the first movie. We wondered how strange it would be to eat, live, and study in a place that was swarming with tourists everyday and used as a film set.

Many of us met for dinner/dessert at The Eagle and Child, the pub where “The Inklings” met and discussed their writing. Members included C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien. A man found out that we were from BYU and, after buying a few pints, gave us ten pounds to buy sodas because he used to live in Salt Lake City.

We decided to split a few slices of chocolate cake instead and I’ve never been so glad to be recognized as American J. As it was free time it’s hard to say what everyone did that night, but some of us went to see a local production of Guys and Dolls. It was fabulous! We got cheap student tickets and incredible seats. I was a little nervous about British actors mimicking famous New York accents, but it turned out fine and the production was amazing.

Overall it was wonderful to be in a college town surrounded by young people again and I think all of the ladies wish we would have had a little more time to mix and mingle with the Oxford men.

Melissa Fultz

Jane Austen's House

2007-10-15T11:09:00.000-07:00

18 May 2007
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This morning we got ready and took a coach to see Jane Austen’s house. A woman talked to our group about Austen’s life which interested me a lot. Jane was the youngest daughter in her family and very close to her older sister. A movie about her life will be in theatres in the US in August. I am so excited to see it. I read about Jane’s love interests and the most interesting ones to me were two men. One decided not to marry her because she had no money, even though they were in love and he married someone else shortly thereafter. Another proposed to her and she accepted but couldn’t sleep all night and told him the next day that she couldn’t marry him, probably because she didn’t love him, though he was quite wealthy. She died at the age of 40 and all but her father outlived her. She never married but was an excellent aunt. She was very secretive about her writing and even her very close cousins didn’t know about her works until they were published.

It was amazing to see her house. I can see how she put a lot of her own life into her books. Jane played the piano each morning and then wrote throughout the day and confided in her sister at night. I actually saw the small writing desk that she supposedly sat at each day to write. It was such a huge deal for me, and was easily my favorite part of the house. I bought a pen and a notepad that had a drawing of her writing desk on it. I am dying to go home and read all of her novels.

We ate lunch on the gorgeous grounds of the Austen home and I did sit-ups and push-ups on the ground there which I thought was pretty cool, but everyone else thought was strange. We then proceeded to hike 15 miles. If that was the case, it felt like less, but I really enjoyed the conversations I had. We first got in our writing groups to discuss our ideas for our thought papers. Then I was involved in several conversations that were quite entertaining.

We checked into our hotel and then ate dinner in our rooms. The highlight of my day was definitely seeing where Jane Austen wrote her most famous novels. It was so amazing!

Laura Graham

Winchester Cathedral

2007-10-13T11:10:00.000-07:00

19 May 2007
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We left New Alresford and hiked eight miles to Winchester just in time to see the Festival of May Parade. People where dressed in traditional clothing folk dancing and singing as they made their way down the cobble stone street.

Our group split into two groups, one taking the tour of the Winchester Cathedral while the other went on a tour of the tower. Both covered essential parts of the cathedral’s fascinating history. It was built in 1079 and has elements of Norman, Roman, and Gothic architecture. I went on the tower tour and felt so claustrophobic climbing the 213 step narrow spiral well to the top, but emerging out of the little door on the top was awesome. We could see the entire city and beyond for miles. I enjoyed seeing the layers of time represented through the different styles. All of the stone used to build the Cathedral was taken from the Isle of Wight which is where we went next.

We took the bus to the harbor to catch our ferry and arrived just in time to climb to Tennyson Downs for the sunset. It was beautiful. The waves crashed up against the white chalky cliffs and the sky canvas was painted shades of pink, red and orange. It was a perfect end to a wonderful day.

Isle of Wight

2007-10-12T11:12:00.000-07:00

Sunday
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Today we went to church with the Isle of Wight ward. It wasn’t far away so the coach ride was short. We got to see the missionaries confirm a new member. Both her and the missionaries seemed really excited. The members are preparing for stake conference in a couple of weeks in which President Hinckley and Elder Eyring are speaking, so the talks today centered around hearkening to the words of the prophets and the importance of learning in eternal progression. The ward choir sang “Love at Home” which was great and they even coordinated their clothes. They were all, even the men, wearing pink.

In Sunday school we got our second round of the Prodigal Son lesson, but there were new insights to be learned. It’s great that we can get something very different out of the same lesson. The fireside was thrown together last minute, but it turned out to be spectacular. The theme was on the atonement. Rose, Liz, Brooke, Sarah J, and Evelyn were our speakers, each speaking on very different aspects of the atonement. It was great to hear them put their own spins on the theme and many of them tied in experiences from the trip. The music was, of course, amazing. Kate did a beautiful solo, the group choir sang “Lead Kindly Light,” and Jordan, Jim, Chris, Rachel, Anna, and Bess sang “Come Thou Fount.”

I have been so impressed with the musical talent of our group. Music is so powerful and really brings on the spirit. Now we are all sitting around our hostile, which we are the sole inhabitants of, catching up on reading and writing, and anxiously awaiting an exquisite meal of pancakes.

Kimberly Roberts

Osborne House and Carisbrooke Castle

2007-10-11T11:17:00.000-07:00

21 May 2007
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Victoria Day: Osborne House and Carisbrooke Castle
Waking on the Isle of Wight was slow. Until Jordan’s voice came booming through the hall (sans megaphone) announcing the conclusion of breakfast. I rolled out of my. . . wait, no, top bunk again. . . I climbed my way down the ladder, wincing as my foot hit the floor. But on the horizon was a day of Victorian splendor, so I headed down the stairs to porridge (with raisins!) and boiled eggs.

Osborne House was a home away from home for Victoria and Albert and their offspring. And their household. I overheard a docent say that Victoria traveled with at least 100 servants, etc. So Osborne House is pretty big. Opulent, even. With portrait after portrait of Victoria and Albert. And their offspring. Nine of them. (Any rumor that they were actually Mormon? No? We should start one.)

Down the lane from Osborne House is the Swiss Cottage. Albert wanted the little princes and princesses to learn how a household was run, so he built them a house. I had my Barbie house (thanks Grandpa), they had a Swiss cottage. The children prepared lunch and tea for Mum and Dad, and gardened. And apparently made bricks for “Albert Barracks”—a miniature fort aside the garden.

After a quick cold lunch of cheese, hummus, crackers, and chocolate (food is very very very important on this journey of ours), we hopped back on the Alpha coach. Carisbrooke Castle is mostly a ruin overrun by grasses and flowers and small children. The walks around the castle offered a view of the island below—Carisbrooke, as any well-costumed guard/guide will tell you, is strategically placed to defend the island. From small children, by trapping them in the Castle museum. I did find a moment’s peace in the castle chapel, accompanied by Chris Bennion’s penny whistle.

The day ended with hamburgers. Hamburgers! It was heaven on a bun. (Thanks Karla!) Overwhelmed with protein, several of the group ran up to the Downs, while a few faithful stayed to read Tennyson’s In Memorium. Slightly depressed that Tennyson’s masterpiece took him seventeen years to write (1833–1850), I hauled myself back into that blessed upper bunk and drifted away to the sound of my roommate snoring. . . and no, I’m not going to tell you who it was.

Sarah Jenkins

Portsmouth

2007-10-10T11:18:00.000-07:00

Tuesday May 22nd, 2007
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We visited Portsmouth Marine Museum today! Having gone on the trip two years ago, I am mostly familiar with all the places we have visited and will visit during the program, but I hadn’t been to this museum before and it was very exciting and interesting. We first ate, as we tend to do pretty much half of the time, and then we went and saw the Mary Rose, the ship built in the beginning of the 1500s. Its maiden voyage was in 1511 and Henry VIII used it for the next 34 years. It sunk in 1545, just two years before Henry died, and they’re still not sure why it sunk. There are several ideas, such as the shutters to the guns or canons were left open and water came in, or that the ship turned too fast, etc., or a combo of various factors. Anyway, the ship lay on the seafloor until 1982 when they brought up as much as possible—almost an entire half, lengthwise, and several artifacts. It was pretty cool.

After the Mary Rose we saw the HMS Victory, the ship that Admiral Horatio Nelson used and actually died on at the Battle of Trafalgar. The ship was used from 1765 to 1812. The various levels to the ship are, starting from the top, the Upper Deck, Upper Gun Deck, Middle Gun Deck (very creative names, I know,) the Lower Gun Deck, the Orlop Deck, and then at the bottom the Hold. We got to go through all the levels and look at the canons, the infirmary, the captain’s quarters, the boatswain’s quarters, etc. I decided that I would definitely get sick and not make a good sailor, and I would especially not like the hold which was very dark, dreary, and cramped. But, in the hold were huge coils of ropes5, like giant snakes writhing and ready to attack. If one of those ropes fell on you—definite crushage. Another great tidbit was the fact that this ship, under the direction of Admiral Nelson, basically helped defeat the French because the English fleet could fire reload the guns in 90 seconds, twice as fast as the French fleet. With 104 guns and over 800 men I am sure it was easier to be so quick and efficient. Great day, though. Now we are off to Salisbury.

Rachel Skaggs

Salisbury

2007-10-09T11:25:00.000-07:00

May 23, 2007
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We stayed the night at the Salisbury Youth Hostel with it’s giant Cedar of Lebanon in the front courtyard. After a worthy breakfast we had class and discussed ideas for approaching the writing of the personal essay. Then off to Salisbury Cathedral.

Built in the 13th century, this all Early English Gothic building is unique for being built of one architectural style. It rests on a deep gravel bed in a water meadow. Each week the water commission comes to measure the level of water in the gravel. Sometimes the water has been ankle deep in the cathedral and bishops and others entered on horseback and were lifted over the wall separating the commoners from the religious community so there feet wouldn’t get wet. During the Reformation the statues of saints were destroyed. The brilliant colors painted on the stone walls have disappeared over it’s 750 year history.

This is the place were one of the 4 remaining copies of the Magna Carta, signed when King John was on the throne, are housed.
One of the towers has tilted 23 inches but has remained steady. They are currently restoring the outside of this vast cathedral. Our guide was wonderfully informative and funny. Tomorrow we will get up at 4:00 am to meet our appointment at Stonehenge. It’s early to bed for us.

Donna Jorgensen

Lulworth Cove to Weymouth

2007-10-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

May 25 2007
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We left in the morning after class to hike along the cliffs from Lulworth Cove to Weymouth. It was a nice 11 mile hike. The first bit was quite steep going up and down, up and down. We took a luxurious hour for lunch and a little nap before continuing onward.

Seeing the beach from the chalk cliffs was quite astounding. The sun was shining and there was little cloud cover, so we could see off into the horizon as well as into the countryside opposite the beach. We passed the famous chalk carving of King George on his horse on the hillside as well.

The last couple miles were along the gravelly beach and into Weymouth. We could see Portland on the other side of the bay and it was just beautiful.

Weymouth

2007-10-07T21:43:00.000-07:00

May 26

Hello! We are at the beach today and very excited about it! Weymouth is a great and cute little town, the sand on the beach as soft as Pismo in California, and the sea food as great as in Seattle. (Sorry that is so Northwest heavy but I don’t know much else.) There is a great boardwalk, all sorts of little cute shops, and small compact houses.

We got to wake-up a little later this morning in our wonderful Bed and Breakfasts, and eat breakfast in our pajamas because we will be here tonight and tomorrow night, so we didn’t have to repack our bags. (Yea to that, I think all of us are a little tired of living out of our suitcases.)
Then this morning we took a bus ride and a short hike to a small manor house in Dorchester and got to be walked around it by the very man that lives in it which was pretty neat. There was some parts of it that were so old that he had no idea how old they were! Then we went and ate lunch by a Roman town house ruins which was nice.

After that we all split up, some people going to a Thomas Hardy museum, some of us went and bought movie tickets to go and see Pirates and Bridge to Terabithia tonight and then shop around town.

A few of us, me including, went straight to beach! Because it was a little colder today the water was FRIGID (and this coming from the girl that swims in the Sandy) but it was fun to lie in the sun. The beach was bursting with people swimming, paddle boating (the water is really shallow at this beach,) and playing in the sand. They had all sorts of kiosks right on the beach, and a great little puppet show for kids in a little booth.

After that we went and took naps, read books, shopped, and all just relaxed. This evening we’re doing a range of activities from dinner, the cinema, movies in our room, working on essays, and going to bed before church at the ward here tomorrow.

-Sarah Ray

Weymouth Sou'wester

2007-10-06T21:47:00.000-07:00

27 May 2007

This morning was very wet and cold in Weymouth. I heard rain pouring down during the night, and thought about the respiratory virus which has been making its way through our group, and about the two mile walk to church. I walked out of the B&B after breakfast and each fat drop seemed to hold a teaspoonful of water—the water feels wetter than in Utah, and the rain falls steadily, inexorably. We were lucky in our weather until today. The walkers were drenched through by the time they made it to the church on Chickerell Road. We took the sickest to church in the van. Our landlady at the Greenwood Guesthouse drove a last carload.

The Weymouth Branch seems cheerful, prosperous, and friendly. People were welcoming and funny. The branch had planned a Munch and Mingle with our students and I would have taken a photo of the amazing spread if it hadn’t disappeared so quickly. We contributed what finger foods we had planned for lunch but ate much more than our share. John planned to set the kids free to go back to the beach or the boardwalk after church if they pleased. A few elected to go home to sleep, but no one felt the urge to sit on the beach in the rain—they practiced songs and talks for the fireside or helped cook and clean up a Thai curry dinner (Liz Knight’s recipe, an amazing success despite the accident with the rice which necessitated opening all the doors and windows in the building for a time). I was one of the cooks/cleaners, and so missed the first of the fireside. The theme tonight was favorite hymns, as each speaker chose a hymn to talk about, and then individuals, small- or large-groups sang each song. The testimonies were heartfelt and the music beautiful as usual. John said he started crying during the first talk and never stopped until the closing prayer. It was still raining after the fireside, and branch members shuttled our group back to the B&Bs—where some of us (older, sedate, more boring ones) made an early night.

So we have now experienced a true Sou’wester, as one branch member explained. It’s about time we had some real Weather, just so we know we’re in the UK and not Arizona. Tomorrow’s hikes are through Hardy Country in and around Dorchester—not long, but nicer in the sun than in the rain, so I hope it clears up tonight. Only two more Sundays in England: on our own in Bath, as the locals are traveling to Bristol for a regional conference; and then at the Spanish Branch in the Hyde Park building in London. The time has flown and will fly even faster to the end.

Karla Bennion

Hardy Country

2007-10-04T21:52:00.000-07:00

Monday, May 28
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Monday, May 28 was a day filled with magnificent adventure. We left our Bed and Breakfasts in Weymouth early and set out to discover the wonders of Hardy country.

We visited Dorchester and various homes associated with the life of Thomas Hardy, all the while taking in the sumptuous British countryside. At one point we strolled straight through a small herd of cattle, after which, they galloped away across the field.

After visiting points such as Max Gate, a home designed by Hardy himself, we took a three-hour bus ride to the famed cliffs of Tintagel. There we set out on a short walk to our youth hostel, which turned out to be nestled in a nook overlooking the western sea.

Dinner was hearty and afterward the film crew captured some of the most stunning sunset footage of seen to date. Finally, when nightfall was upon us, we retired, all awaiting yet another chance to learn and live in this vast undiscovered country.

James Craig Dalrymple II

Tintagel

2007-10-03T21:53:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 29th
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Today was our second day on the cliffs of Tintagel. We had a two hour class on Hardy this morning where we discussed Hardy’s views on fate and life. We read his poetry and discussed Tess. We also spent a lot of time discussing forgiveness and the ideals that hinder our ability to forgive. We burned pictures of our old boyfriends/ girlfriends to exhibit our complete forgiveness. Not really, but we had some great discussion.

Then we went down to town for lunch and sampled the clotted cream ice cream. We then visited the Tintagel Castle which is the alleged birth place of King Arthur. Karla gave us a quick run down of the myth and its history in literature. The castle was actually built for the brother of King Richard. The myth has really taken over this place and it’s amazing to think that very little is actually known about any of it.

The castle sat on the edge of the cliffs overlooking a small cove. It was beautiful and I just couldn’t understand how Guinevere could give it all up just because she had the hots for Lancelot. Silly woman!

The castle was mostly ruins and it was really interesting. The rest of the day was spent on our own. Some people shopped, swam in Merlin’s cave, or in my case slept the afternoon away. We had an amazing dinner by Hannah, Katherine, Claire, and Chris. It was Katherine and Claire’s own made up recipe of plum chicken and it was divine. Now we are going to split up and scatter over the cliffs to write our thoughts and feelings and emotions… all of that ridiculous stuff that John is attempting to elicit out of us on this trip.

---Kimberly Roberts

Tintagel to Boscastle

2007-10-03T16:52:00.000-07:00

May 30 2007
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The sky was grey and threatening as we set out for Boscastle this morning. The wind blew fiercely from the sea. Once we’d left the promontory and Tintagel behind though, the sun came out and the day warmed. We had a leisurely six mile hike ahead of us along the dark, slate cliffs, turquoise sea, and inviting beaches of Cornwall. Soon one group left for a particularly inviting beach. They explored a waterfall, a cave, and the water.

Another group took a detour towards St. Nectan’s Waterfall where Arthur’s knights were baptized before setting out on their quest for the Holy Grail. Not far into the detour they also found a bronze age (1800-1400 BC) ‘labyrinth’ carved into a stone wall: possibly evidence that this area was a place of pilgrimage long before Christianity, or even the Romans came to Britain.

Around the waterfall branches had ribbons tied to them; logs had coins embedded into them; and nearly every ledge had some kind of memento, keepsake, as an offering to St. Nectan or an appeal to ‘the power of the Goddess:’ evidence that paganism is alive and well in England.
We reached the Hostel which two years ago was washed out by mud and flood, enjoying the renovated accommodations as well as the nearby coastal cliffs where we hoped to see another stunning sunset, but dark clouds moved in to end the day as it began: the sky grey and threatening, the wind blowing fiercely from the sea.

Spencer Green

Glastonbury Glee

2007-10-02T16:55:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 31, 2007
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We woke in Boscastle to rain, necessitating John leading our mantra, “It’s raining; it’s a marvelous day.” After coaching to Glastonbury, where our coach driver pointed out the notable Clark shoe factory, we toured the thousand year-old Abbey, also neat.

Glastonbury Abbey is now an extensive collection of ruins, said to have been built on the location of a wooden church built by Joseph of Arimathea on his legendary journey with Christ to England. Because of this, the Abbey became a place of pilgrimage and grew very wealthy. But it was destroyed under the Dissolution of the Monasteries under King Henry VIII. And then they used the Abbey as a quarry for building stones. Recycling was alive and well in England even then, apparently.

We were shown around by Brother Cedric, our tour guide and questionably authentic monk from A.D. 934. Brother Cedric took us to the Abbot’s kitchen and taught us about daily food routines of the monks. Under the Benedictine order, abbey monks were allotted a pound of bread, and two hot meals every day, which ended up being eggs and cheese and vegetable pottage, or soup. Meat from four legged animals was also contraband, so the monks found useful ways of classifying animals to their advantage. For instance, since beavers had tails and swam, they were fish and okay to eat. So were barnacle geese, puffins, and some other birds. Okeedokey.

The rain let up a bit while we were in the kitchen, and kept off enough for a short walk around the ruins, but it began showering again heavily before too long. While it was not windy, we could stand beneath the remaining arches to avoid becoming too water logged. Some of us decided to hike the Tor despite the rain. The Tor is a natural hill in the center of Glastonbury (sometimes said to be the long lost island of Avalon).

On top of the Tor is the medieval St. Michael’s tower. I was wearing my large green poncho over my backpack, so I looked like Quasimodo schlepping up the steep hill on my way to the bell tower. Only it wasn’t a bell tower. Some people were even hanged there—political or religious reasons. In the wind and horizontally falling rain at the top, my plastic poncho billowed out from me, puffing me up like a big green bush. I felt impressive and powerful standing in the doorway of the tower over the town, where John says the patchouli wafts thickly in the air and crystals are available in every other shop. It is not surprising finding magical talismans here. The place feels ancient and magical. It was an amusing place to be.

We coached to St. Briavel’s just outside Wales, some of us very wet from our walk up the magical mountain of hope and wonder. Ha! Our hostel there was a genuine medieval castle. Our group stayed in the east tower, occupying the large single room on all three levels. The rooms were chilly, their walls being stone; the stairway up was narrow and windy, so we left our suitcases in the van. In the chapel of the main building were dress-ups, allowing many a girl’s childhood princess fantasy to come true.

Dinner was an especially fabulous affair. Our lovely dinner group—Claire, Hannah, Katherine, and Chris—created wonderful French toast and toppings: syrup, cinnamon sugar, strawberries, yogurt, and whipped cream. Jim and Kim fought for the title of eating the most; results were uncertain. Postprandial discussions were jovial and extended. Castle life seemed to suit us well. At least until it came time to wend our way upstairs and find our places in our cold beds in the haunted castle.

Bess Hayes

Tintern Abbey

2007-10-01T17:01:00.000-07:00

June 1, 2007
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We slept in a haunted castle last night. I’m pretty sure I felt something cold move through me before I drifted off to sleep in the east tower of the castle. Just hours before we had found a chest full of medieval dress-up gear and we went to town dressing up as pages, squires, princesses, and knights. Yes, we are college students . . . and yes, we sometimes act like we are eight. But who could resist dressing up in medieval garb while spending the night in a castle? I dare say (and this is bold) we put the medieval club to shame.

This morning we ate the typical muesli, croissants, cheese, and yogurt in “The Great Hall” and then had another great episode of our writing class. We’ve been put into new writing groups and although it’s good to get some new opinions and ideas circulating around our essays, it was hard to open up and share my personal essay ideas with a new batch of people. It’s like picking a scab off of a nicely healing wound and letting it bleed just long enough to get some additional writing inspiration. After all the sharing and caring was over, we were on the trail again, headed towards one of the places I’ve anticipated the most: Tintern Abbey.

We wandered (code word for getting lost) around the lush green hills and fields of Wales for a few good hours. While passing though some woods we caught a glimpse of a pagan sort of figurine, made of branches and foliage, about twenty feet off the path. We, of course, took a detour to examine it and treat it to a photo shoot. Its head was made up of twigs and string and we took the initiative to give it some pine needle eyes, a walking stick, and a thick twig cigar. We then continued to wander and eventually found our way to the abbey.

Tintern Abbey was beautiful, like the other abbeys, churches and cathedrals we’ve seen, but especially lovely in its own unique way. Unlike other grand edifices whose religious splendor can be seen in the man-made grandeur of gothic towers, looming domes and historic paintings, windows, and relics, Tintern Abbey’s skeletal frame enabled us to see God’s version of beauty by looking outward through its gaping ceilings and glassless windows at patchy blues skies and endless green hillsides while lying on a carpet of soft grass, speckled with wild daisies. I imagine that if God were put in charge of designing the interior of a religious structure, it might look something like the abbey. After all, God created all the beautiful landscapes of this world, why wouldn’t he want them inside his buildings?

We enjoyed a reading of Wordworth’s poem, “Tintern Abbey” and we were then given time to write, sketch, or reflect on our experience as the film crew tried their hardest to capture the moment. “Wait,” they commanded, “can you try looking pensive again?” I just smiled, stared off in the distance, and did my best to relish the last moments of our final Wordsworth site.

Evelyn Mather

Stonehenge

2007-09-30T09:01:00.000-07:00

25 May 2007
Photos by Karla Bennion

Ready, Set. . . London!

2007-09-29T09:39:00.000-07:00

4 June 2007
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You’ve heard everything there is to hear about Bath, so I’m going straight to the moment we stepped off the train and into the magical place known as Paddington Station. A world of concrete and turnstiles and pay toilets. Maybe not so magical. But a few steps to the left, straight ahead, a staircase to the right and we were headed to Kensington Gardens. Kensington Gardens and London.

I walked with Jordan, a few minutes behind the rest of the group (the plan was to split into two groups, but they all wanted to follow Spencer). The constant rush of people, the small shops, the beautiful bright red double-decker buses. There’s something about this city—something blogging isn’t going to communicate, but I’ll see what I can do.

Jordan and I arrived at the meeting spot: the Peter Pan statue. The rest of the group wasn’t there, so we waited in a few minutes blissful silence. The Peter Pan statue is one of my favorite spots in London. It sits in its own pocket in the garden. Peter plays his flute as fairies and animals curve around his pedestal.

The rest of the group arrived (finally) and then we waited for John and our travel cards. And this is getting boring. But John arrived with a bit of mischief planned. The tickets he had purchased were “tube only”; John wanted to take the bus. So we smiled and flashed our cards to the bus driver and off we went to Piccadilly Circus, watching the sights (and shops) as we went.
Melissa will never marry a mortician. Just so you all know.

Piccadilly Circus, then Trafalgar Square, then Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. It was the running tour of London. After running in circles (just one small circle really), we began a walk through the parks of London. Ten percent of London is parks or gardens (according to John). St. James, Green, Hyde, Kensington, and finally Holland. Somewhere in there we blinked at Buckingham Palace. Holland Park is the home of our youth hostel, where all 20 girls are in one big happy room. It’s very. . . happy. I joined Claire and Hillary for a bit of man-watching out our window that looks into the backstage of an outdoor opera.

Around 7:30 or so, John began a second tour of London, this time “London at Night,” taking the group through the West End, from (I believe) Covent Garden to Leicester Square. And then we were all tucked into our beds, while visions of Cadbury danced in our heads.

Westminster Abbey and Trafalgar Square

2007-09-28T09:46:00.000-07:00

June 5

Somewhere between the tombs Geoffrey Chaucer and Thomas Hardy I realized how impressive Westminster Abby really was. We had begun the day as we had most others: breakfast at the hostel, a short writing class, and finally a ride on the tube. We had seen ancient churches before, and I thought I had a good idea of what we were in store for. I was wrong. Westminster was filled with monuments to the individuals that sculpted western civilization into what it is today. Of course, poets’ corner was poignant. But other, simpler markers, such as the unadorned resting place of Anne of Cleaves, helped us envision the layers of history compressing through time, morphing us and our world into what it is today.

After Westminster Abby we went outside, eventually eating lunch on the steps of Trafalgar Square. The concrete was filled with people, and the air with pigeons. The sun was out. We devoured our food. When we had finished we headed over to the National Gallery and looked at paintings by Picasso, Matisse, Cezanne, Goya, Van Gogh and many others. Even though the Gallery was busy many of us were able to have highly transcendent experiences with the paintings. One of my personal favorites was a Van Gogh depicting a wheat field and a lonely cypress tree.

James Craig Dalrymple II

"Wicked!" day in London Town

2007-09-26T09:49:00.000-07:00

June 6

This thrilling day began very early for some of us. A few noble souls woke up at 5:30 am to stand in line for tickets to Wicked, the hit Broadway musical that has taken the world by storm (for those of you who haven’t heard of it). Although when we met them at Westminster Abbey they scared us all by pretending to not have tickets, we actually got 25 pound tickets on the FRONT ROW!!! The whole rest of the day, people would periodically grab each other’s arms and squeal “We’re going to WICKED!!” and then there would be more squealing. This was probably pretty annoying for those who weren’t going, but they were patient and kind.

Those who didn’t wait in line started the day with class and then went to Westminster Abbey. It’s a fancy-sounding place, but when it comes right down to it, it’s really just a big indoor graveyard with famous people in it. As Ann said, Westminster Abbey’s going to be a heck of a mess on the Resurrection morning. Bloody Mary’s going to be ticked at Elizabeth I—they’re in the same tomb, but Mary didn’t even get her name on it. It was a great place.

We also went to the National Gallery, which was incredible. All the museums in London are free, and they all have more stuff than you could see in a year. This one has a big Da Vinci, tons of Raphael, Van Gogh (although that exhibit was being moved, so we couldn’t really see it)—you name it, they had it. I personally only made it through like 4 rooms and emerged on an art high. Fabulous museum.

Afterwards we had some free time, which generally meant shopping time for most of us. I believe this was the day several of us went to Primark, a great and spacious store with about 5,000 people in it at any given time. You feel like your soul is slowly being sucked out with a straw. And the dressing room lines are horrible. They have nice stuff, though; I think we’ll all come back dressed at the height of European fashion—the 80’s. It’s frightening how Europe has regressed.

Great day all the way around!

-Hillary Schmutz

London

2007-09-25T09:51:00.000-07:00

Friday June 8 2007

In class this morning we discussed the question of whether people are naturally good or naturally evil. We got into small groups and discussed it. We were able to provide examples for both sides of the argument but we weren’t able to come to any definite answers.

We went to the Imperial War Museum. The museum itself was huge and the exhibits gave information and examined different time periods and aspects of war. I went to the fourth floor and watched a documentary film about genocide and crimes against humanity. I felt weighed down afterwards, but I felt like at least taking a step towards understanding was important. I walked through the holocaust exhibit really quickly, but I was struck by the quote by the German poet Heinrich Heine that was written on the wall: “Where one burns books, one will, in the end, burn people.”

We walked through Southwick Market and got lunch there. Then at 2:00 we went to the New Globe Theatre which overlooks the Thames and is next to the Tate Modern. We were groundlings for the show Othello. Our discussion this morning was a good preparation for some of the issues that the play brings up—where do people like Iago, who seem to be pure evil, come from?

After the play, many of us went to the Tate Modern, supposedly the most visited museum in the world. I found a lot of the pieces to be really thought provoking.

-Katherine Sanders

Synthesis and the Philharmonia

2007-09-23T14:12:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, June 12th

Tuesday started like any other day in London—breakfast at an early hour and class that started a little late. We took an hour to talk about individuality and “cliques” and our thoughts about that. It was a discussion that was sparked by the recent news that Brooke wouldn’t be allowed to be seen in the documentary because she has a nose stud and KBYU won’t allow that to be shown. We were all upset when we heard about this because Brooke has truly become one of us and we all love her articulate and expressive way of writing about things. It’s so frustrating that she won’t be allowed to express herself on the film, and it’s especially frustrating for the film crew who has put so much effort into this project. Our class discussion was a good way to talk about our views and opinions constructively.

After class, we had two hours to write our final paper, a synthesis essay. The goal was to write about what we’ve learned and hopefully connect it in a meaningful way. But as John told us before we started, “It doesn’t have to be good.” We gathered together after it was over to go out to eat at Wagamama’s, a Japanese restaurant with a selection of unusual desserts, including wasabi chocolate fudge cake, ginger cheesecake, and coconut ice cream. (The coconut ice cream was delicious, by the way.) Then it was off to the Tate Britain, another art gallery, where we had our class about the Rossetti siblings and had a chance to look around at all the art, including a lot of work by Turner and an exhibit about William Blake and abolition. We learned that William Blake was a mixture of fanaticism, genius, and just plain crazy and was definitely ahead of his times in his art style.

In the evening we had a lovely dinner at the hostel and then we were all off to the Royal Festival Hall to hear the Philharmonia play Mahler’s 3rd symphony. It was an incredible evening! The music was beautiful and expressive and ran the gamut of dynamics—from so loud it almost hurt your ears to so soft you weren’t really sure they were still playing. We learned last semester that Mahler was inspired to write this symphony by the beautiful mountain scenery, and it was easy to hear the power and grandeur of the mountain in the huge opening sounds. It was a marvelous experience, and I’m sure that it would have been even better if we’d been able to stay awake for all of it.

We took our time getting home because it was one of the most beautiful nights we’ve had in London. The lights across the Thames were absolutely magical, and it made me love London even more. That feeling was probably helped by the Magnum bar I was eating, but still, it was a wonderful way to end the day.

—Kate Maryon

How Wonderful it is to be a Free Woman

2007-09-21T14:13:00.000-07:00

June 13, 2007

This morning we had class and learned about George Orwell. We also discussed the school system, adolescence, and when someone is actually an adult.

I went with a small group to King’s Cross Station to see Platform 9 ¾ as featured in the Harry Potter films. We went to the British Library and saw so many great literary artifacts. There were several religious documents including the Gutenberg Bible dated 1454-55. There were also documents from writers we have been learning about including Wordsworth, Charlotte Bronte, Austen, Dickens, Carroll, Eliot, Woolf, Blake, and Shakespeare. Another display was of the Beatles including some of their original song lyrics they wrote down.

We ate lunch and went to the British Museum. There were rooms for different cultures and I was most interested in the Roman and Egyptian rooms. The most famous archiological piece there is the Rosetta Stone, but I enjoyed looking at all of the mummies, including one woman that still had hair and teeth.

We also went to the Soane’s Museum which wasn’t as amazing, and much smaller. There were a lot of ancient stones with Roman architecture and several statues and paintings. One statue was a cast of the Apollo Belvedere at the Vatican. I finished reading a book about King Henry VIII and his wives and realized how wonderful it is to be a free woman.

I also went to see The Lion King. Though I basically had the lines memorized from when I was eight years old, I loved the costumes, the set, and the African music. It’s also still just a really good story. It’s sad to think that there are only a few days left and we’re leaving in the morning but I’m also eager to go home with all of these great memories.

Laura Graham

Not Quite How Chaucer Described It

2007-09-20T14:17:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 14 June 2007

Canturbury

I hadn’t realized how stressed London made me until after I woke up from my two-hour traffic jam-induced nap on the coach and looked out the window at all of the beautiful open space that we were driving through. I enjoyed London, but I think we were all ready to leave, and the girls were definitely ready to get out of the crowded room that all of us were sharing. We took the coach from London to Dover and toured the Dover Castle. Notable incidents include: dodging the spit raining from a group of school kids on the top of the tower, the first multi-media historical re-enactment we’ve seen that wasn’t painfully awkward to watch, and glimpses of the beautiful white cliffs.

After the castle the coach dropped us off to hike about six miles on the Canterbury Trail. It was not quite like Chaucer described it; we worked our way down a trail that was paved in several areas, past a trailer park and through different yards, but...

Liz Knight

And then the Temple

2007-09-19T14:20:00.000-07:00

15 June 2007

Sissinghurst Castle Garden

After a wonderful night at Kent University in Cantebury, where we all got our own dorm room, we ate one of our last English breakfasts—thick bacon, baked beans, fried eggs, fried bread, nice and soft sausages, croissants, baguette rolls, black currant jelly etc.

After breakfast we hurried our bursting-with-souvenirs luggage to the coach. Heading for the London temple, we looked moderately clean in our Sunday clothes. On the way there we saw some of our last stone walls, green meadows and sheep. Some of us (who were actually awake) sighed.

And then the temple. Familiar and simple. Doing baptisms for the dead was a relaxing way for us to spend our last day together. We did a lot of Spanish names.

After changing back into our street clothes we mounted the coach again to drive to the Sissinghurst Castle Garden. It rained off and on. It was mostly sunny. The garden was a surprise. Long green walkways with statues at the end. Roses climbing up the old walls. The herb garden—scents like licorice, curry, and saffron. German tourists walking with their arms folded behind them praised the garden’s well organized splendor.

Back at the temple accommodations we had our last class and dinner. Kendall was willing to work with what he had and created a satisfying and hearty meal in about an hour. Beef in dark, rich gravy and shell pasta balanced with buttery peas and carrots on the side. Dessert consisted of an unusual amount of strawberries, whip cream, chocolate, apple pie, John’s pineapple cobbler (?), and ice cream. We ate and we ate loudly. Talking and screaming.

Some people already said their goodbyes. Others may or may not be in denial about the fact that this rare experience will be over in just a few hours.

Claire Akebrand