A Scavenger Hunt, and: musings upon English weather

One of the seemingly dozens of memorials to Prince Albert. 

Hyde Park

note: not my feet

My spirits have so lifted at the mere thought of London, I'm raring at the bit once again to bring you all up to date. And isn't that a tempting image there up at the top? "Surely that can't be London," you are likely exclaiming to yourself, quietly. "It's too lush, sunny, and generally glorious!" Well, hold onto your britches because it is, indeed, London, and it was indeed glorious. There may be some times in the future when you'll be a little taken aback at how lovely the weather can be here. And there will be some times, such as my melancholy last post, that demonstrate that sometimes the skies are exactly as gloomy as they are rumored to be. 

This day, my last in London for the orientation, was mostly taken up by the London Scavenger Hunt Day, as it was cheerily dubbed in our schedule. And although it sounds cheesy, stop for a moment and think about the possibilities of giving groups of students a day to wander around the city, in the warm sunshine, with only vague directions and a free Tube card to travel with. It was, unexpectedly, wonderful. We ended up completing two or three tasks, and the rest of the time wandering where the spirit took us. 

This wandering included a long stop at the Princess Diana memorial (memorials are plentiful, so much so that I doubt any English citizen is allowed to forget anything, ever). Those feet that are not mine belonged to a fellow student; we sat with our feet dangling in the water and ate sandwiches and yogurt. As memorials go, this one was very friendly (as befits the People's Princess, as I can imagine the architect emphasizing). The flowing water was designed to be touched and sat next to, and families with small, adorable children outnumbered all other groups. If it weren't for the prospect of strolling through Hyde Park, we might never have left.

And that's almost it. We had a farewell dinner, where I had a rather bitter squash risotto and a stunning toffee pudding with burnt caramel sauce. Then, those who chose to could go to the Buttoned-Down Disco at the hotspot nightclub Koko; I chose to, of course. By the end of the night my feet were blistered and aching, I had barely enough cash for my share of the cab, and most of us had gotten lost from one another at at least one point. A fitting end, I feel, although I'm not sure why. 

Tune in next time for: Canterbury, my room, and my new life, at least for a year!