Of Oxford and Other Scholarly Endeavors

I am resolved to think that despite popular opinion to the contrary, UK students are the same as American students (and perhaps, if I may generalize, students around the world). This thought occurred to me as I was coming into the kitchen and lamenting my state of always reading and yet, never being caught up with everything (it is almost like, the more you read, the amount of reading you have to do suddenly grows). One of my flatmates answered that he never reads and most of the time when researching for essays, he just skims and puts any quote he finds interesting in his paper. Another one, a fellow English major, has not been keeping up with her reading, having yet to finish The Aeneid, which we were done with 3 weeks ago.

Then walking to class, I saw a fellow student reading that week's assignment (Milton's Samson Agonistes) outside of the seminar room. So, procrastination is the same anywhere you go to, especially when you have students who would rather go out than do their assignments. You know you're an overachiever when you realized that while you have half of the assigned 3000 essay already written out, some people have not even started yet. I flew halfway around the world to realize that I am still more studious than most people I know. Maybe this will change when exam time comes around for everyone next quarter (they only have exams once a year since the classes last all year...lucky). Then again, it's the nature of the college student to leave everything until the last minute and waste time in between.

My version of time wasting? Day-long trips during the week to various destinations...while I have three research essays due within the next two weeks. But maybe a trip to Oxford University will motivate me to want to work harder.

The town of Oxford

Oxford University, one of the oldest colleges in the English-speaking world (Chaucer freakin' mentions it in Canterbury Tales) and the alma matre of such names as CS Lewis, JRR Tolkien, John Donne, and former president Bill Clinton and the inspiration for the Harry Potter movies. It's as if I died and moved to Hogwarts since the sets were modeled after Christchurch College.

Christchurch College

The Great Hall, sans enchanted ceiling

There are 38 separate colleges and they are divided by department. The colleges are all dispersed across the town of Oxford which means the entire area is a college town. And you had to pay if you want to enter the more famous colleges such as Balliol, Magdalena, or Christchurch. It's almost as if the entire University (I hesitate to say campus since there is no central campus or main student square) was transported from the Middle Ages and placed in present day. There's hardly any modern style buildings and the buildings are still made of stone, with buttresses and curved windows.

Not to mention heads on blocks

I have a feeling the admission fees into the colleges, Natural History Museum, parks, libraries, church, and botanical gardens was mostly for maintenance cost. I must admit, it was beautiful, though a bit like walking through a zoo since there were students living out their daily lives right next to the tourists who were trying to take pictures. They probably have dozens of pictures of themselves in a stranger's Picasa or Facebook album somewhere...strange.

Walking down the hallowed halls that once bore the footsteps of generations of the greatest English thinkers and writers, one cannot help feeling astounded and both small. What kind of expectations and confidence must you have in yourself to be able to go to a place like this? Is there pressure to do great, especially when you have such a large precedent to live up to? Not to mention the money you need since Oxford carries a hefty pricetag (at about $60,000 a year for EU students, according to Lana). It's a beautiful campus and I admire anyone who has the ability to succeed there. For me, the university was inspiring enough that now, I get to go back and attempt to be studious.

Of Galaxy...

I'd like to make a confession.

I, Deepy, am a chocoholic. This revelation came to me tonight after I finished off the last of a 120 gram chocolate bar. This would not seem so bad if I had not just bought two bars on Tuesday and I have now gone through both of them and it's Friday. Having become acclimated to crappy Hershey bars that are now more sawdust than cocoa and too cheap to buy real chocolate back in the States, imagine my surprise when, coming to the UK, you can buy a real chocolate 120 gram bar for only a pound fourteen.

These are known as Galaxy bars or Dove chocolate (as they are known in the States), owned by the Mars Company (beautiful, beautiful people). Or as a fellow Californian calls them, "The best chocolate you will ever have."


Unfortunately in the States, Dove chocolate is more expensive and they're sold in smaller quantities. In the UK, you can buy the bars by the bulk and they are fairly inexpensive for the quality of the chocolate that you are receiving (ie: real chocolate).

What makes them so great is that rich blend of sugar, milk, and cocoa that is not too sweet while just being the right amount of creamy as to not be overbearing. Wrapped in a golden foil with a curvy shape imprinted on the chocolate face, one can't escape the feeling of pure relaxation and tranquility that comes in the aftermath of that first bite, and the subsequent ones after. It's like a drug and once you've had one, there's no stopping until you've had more.

The ingredients in a Galaxy milk chocolate bar are as followed: sugar, cocoa butter, cocoa mass, skimmed milk powder, milk fat, lactose, demineralised whey powder, vegetable fat, emulsifiers, and natural vanilla extract. Notice the simplicity of the ingredients list, the lack of artificial flavoring, and the inclusion of real cocoa ingredients. It's natural and simple; and while it won't make you skinner or give you better complexion, it's still damn good.

Now, what to do until I buy another one...

An interesting article on cocoa substitution in Hershey's chocolate, I'm ashamed:
http://www.seriouseats.com/2008/09/chocolate-cocoa-butter-replacements-hersheys.html

Of Valentine's Day and Dublin

Every Valentine's Day that I've had since high school (where it was just another bitter day that forever reminded me of how single and alone I was) have been far better than the last. My freshman year in college, my friend Christine and I ordered pizza, watched a movie, and then went up to our neighbor's place for karaoke. Last year, me and my a cappella buddies went out to dinner at California Pizza Kitchen where we proceeded to sing on the way to the restaurant, at the restaurant, and coming back from the restaurant. That added with a red velvet cake and a chocolate souffle ensured that I was lying in a food coma for the rest of the night.

This year topped it all, though. True, there was no special boy but the weekend did end up being fun (for the rest of us) and unforgettable. Going to Dublin for a weekend might not have been your typical V-day excursion, but when you add a free pint from the Guinness factory...

Apparently, "Guinness is good for you" and it's full of "poetry," according to the factory advertisements.

Hamburgers at Eddie Rockets (the Irish version of Johnny Rockets, non-affiliated)...

A night of dancing at the Purty Kitchen, located in the Temple Bar district, which is the source of Dublin's nightlife. The club had 4 floors, live music, and 2 bars...


Followed by a beautiful sunny day exploring the medieval area of Dublin, which included the old city and Saint Patrick's cathedral,

The old city of Dublin, circa 1240 AD, sadly, it was closed off


Jonathan Swift is buried here since he was the Dean of the Church

Then you had all you need to have a great Valentine's Day weekend.

My Valentines? The guys and girls of the Warwick Erasmus society, which composed of all exchange students to the University of Warwick, both from the states and Europe. And they managed to make it a memorable end to an eventful Reading Week. Now, back to real life and trying to work.

Things I learned from Dublin:

• The Irish accents in Dublin are not very pronounced, being a mix of Irish and British.
  
• Beware of drunk Irish people, they will tend to elbow you without apologizing, throw the contents of their drink on you, or spit in your general direction (seriously)
• Apparently, Asians in Ireland are a rarity. Case in point, while trying to get into the club, the bouncer took a long glance at my ID and Jenny's , who is Chinese, ID before remarking, "beautiful." Then, the next day, a strange old Irish man stopped beside on the street, asked me if I was Chinese, then proceeded to pat my head and wished me a good trip in Ireland.
• Stay away from the edges of the city, it's kind of slummy. But otherwise, the rest of Dublin is quite small, quaint, and full of antique shops (you can easily walk from one end of the city to the other within one afternoon).
• Alcohol in Dublin is, ironically, very expensive. I paid 7 euros for a cocktail while a pint of beer cost 4 euros. The key? Order one drink and nurse it the whole night.

Of Paris, the food!

To finish off my travelogue of Paris, I am foregoing my Victorian poetry reading and reliving the memories of Parisian food.

What can I say about French food that has not been said already? Rich, creamy, delectable, délicieux! If you do nothing at all in France, at least eat well. It's the food capital of the world (remember Pixar's "Ratatouille"?).

On most days, for breakfast, we usually went into patisseries (bakeries) that boasted the most buttery and wonderful croissants. It almost seemed to melt in your mouth with how warm and flaky it was. Then, there was the pain au chocolat (chocolate croissants) which were so sinful when you considered how much butter and fat is within them. The best ones I had were during my last day in Paris since I finally got one that was fresh out of the oven and the chocolate ended up being rich and bittersweet.

A pain au chocolat (photo courtesy of Wikipedia)

If possible, try to go early in the morning since French bread and pastries taste the best when straight out of the oven. Though eating them cold wasn't bad either, especially when you are consuming one while strolling down a wide Parisian boulevard.

My favorite thing, and I have a feeling, my travel mates as well, food-wise was the brasseries (creperies). These were open stands attached to cafes that sold crepes to go for upwards of 2 euros. And in 5 minutes, you had a warm, buttery, sweet, and amazing crepe in your hand, wrapped in a napkin, that you can take with you as you walked along the Seine (and yes, I did that and it was incredible). Of course, the variations available were a bit on the simple side, usually butter or sugar, ham/egg, fromage (cheese), or nutella (a hazelnut and chocolate spread), but they were still a good value for the price. What's so bad about getting filled up on chocolate?

An idea of what crepes look like (I made these back when I was at home)

If you want a fancier crepe with a variety of toppings, then going inside the cafe is usually the best idea (you don't want to carry a loaded crepe around, it can get very messy). One night, I had a crepe with chocolate sauce, vanilla ice cream, bananas, and chocolate liquer. I couldn't get a picture of it because I dived in too fast but suffice to say, it was the perfect ending to a meal.

The cheapest food in Paris was on the side streets. There, the cheapest (price-wise) food could be found. We spent a copious amount of time in the Latin District, a small area especially for college student.

Located south of the Notre Dame, near the Seine, we spent most nights looking for dinner there, if only because so many restaurants offered set menus for only 10 euros, which is usually less expensive than ordering á là carte. Though beware of the hecklers outside of the restaurant, they will try to get you to come inside their restaurants, most of the time, just look away and say "no" if you don't like the menu.

Despite that, for 10 euros in France, you could get a 3 course meal, which included appetizer, entree, and dessert. Dinner was heaven and when accompanied by red wine, I savored every bite of it. Usually dinner lasted about 3 hours since we'd end up engaged in long discussions while the waiters were slow to bring out of the food. Everything moves slower in France, especially when you're eating. After all, food is meant to be savored and dinner is the biggest meal of the day. I can't say anything more, just look at the pictures.

Mussels á là crême

Duck l'orange with baked potato (the sauce was so good, I was scrapping it off of the plate)

Chocolate souffle with vanilla custard

Contrary to popular opinion, Parisians are not very snobby at all. Understandably, they were not opening their arms in welcome but whenever I needed to speak English, they were very accommodating. Of course, it helps to speak French in Paris but it's not essential and no one's going to chop off your head if you don't. More often than not, I just ordered food in English to avoid mangling the language, especially since most restaurants had bilingual menus. It also helps if you ask them, "Parlez vous Anglais" ("Do you speak English?") before you start spewing out English, just to be polite. But otherwise, being in Paris helped me to realize just how universal English is becoming. Though the French accents still throw me since they're so thick and sometimes nearly indecipherable.

To close, being in Paris was akin to being in a dream, to coin a cliche phrase. You read about the sights in the book (or in this case, in a blog) and you see it in movies such as "Funny Face" and "Paris Je T'aime" but it's not until you are within the city itself that you are made aware of just what makes Paris so magical. It isn't just the sights or the sounds or the food, but everything melted together, the relaxed energy (except for drivers during rush hour), the history, that certain "je ne se quais" that makes it so amazing. And the crepes and pain âu chocolat? That's just the cherry on top.

Of Paris, the art!

Growing up Vietnamese, I have always been somewhat surrounded by a very French-influenced culture due to the fact that France occupied Vietnam for more than 60 years. A good amount of Vietnamese cuisine stems from France (such as bành xèo, a Vietnamese version of a French crepe) and after the Vietnam War, France was one of the most common countries of refuge for Vietnamese.

As a result, I have grown up with an appreciation for French culture, music, and art (made all the more potent by my father, who can speak a bit of French, and "Paris by Night," a Vietnamese variety show that was a family tradition). I grew up associating France, particularly Paris, with guitars, sunshine, the "Mona Lisa," and the Tour Eiffel. Entering college, that appreciation for the city became more fervent as I learned more about French history and art via my modern art classes. I do not consider myself a French aficionado by any means, but Paris has always been that hazy dream that was always waiting to come true.

Which is no great surprise that upon entering the city of lights, this song by a Vietnamese composer, Ngô Thụy Miên, entered my head.

"Paris có gì lạ không em?
Mai anh về giữa bến sông Seine
Anh về giữa một giòng sông trắng
Là áo sương mù hay áo em?"

Translation:
Is there anything strange about Paris, my dear?
Tomorrow I will come home through the Seine
I will come home on a white river
Will I see the white fog or your white dress?

For me, Paris is music, made all the more prominent by the amount of art and culture within the city. That is why I want to dedicate a separate post to all that makes Paris wonderful in my eyes, which is predominantly its art and, in the next post, its cuisine.

Monday, after spending a night with the Eiffel Tower, we went to the Louvre (also known as the home of infamous "Mona Lisa").

What I did not know about the Louvre was that, beside its gargantuan size which is never fully seen in movies or photographs, it used to be a palace. It was the home of the French monarchy up to Louis XIV, who decided to move to the more ornate Versailles Palace and left his collection of artwork at the Louvre. To my greatest surprise, there was indeed the foundations of the medieval Louvre Palace beneath the ground floor of the museum.

In my own incredulous words, "There's a castle in the basement?"

It would take years to really ponder every artifact within the Louvre, my travel mates and I did it in 4 hours. Yet, it was every art lover's dream with its long rows of images and artifacts. Each room is sumptuously decorated to fit the relics within it, the Grecian wing was decorate in the simple, Classical style while the more ornate French section was painted in grand, Rococo-esque (flowery and slightly over-the-top) fashion. It was almost as if the building itself was a work of art.

The French furniture room

It was also very easy to get lost in it, especially since stairways to the lobby were few and fair in between, causing you to walk down to the end of the long hallways if you wanted to exit (though I did wander into the Babylonian section of the museum by mistake, which ended up being a beautiful sight).

I spent about 3 of the 4 hours with some of the most famous artworks within human history, such as:

Jacques-Louis David's The Coronation of Napoleon

I'm the little magenta speck

The Venus di Milo


and, of course, Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa," which amazed me with its size. How can something so small be so influential? I will never know, considering that the barrier around it was so wide, I couldn't get a close glimpse.


Then, on Wednesday, while my travel mates wandered around in the Parisian Catacombs, I decided to take full advantage of the famous art collections of Paris and go to another museum, which was closer to my heart. It is the Musee de Orsay, the Orsay Museum, and it houses modern art, dating from the 1800's to the mid 1900's. Built in an old train station, it had the most extensive collection of Realist and Impressionist art I have ever seen, even surpassing MOMA in New York, which is no surprise since most 19th century art came from Paris.

There, I spent 3 hours soaking in as much Millet, Manet, Courbet, Monet, and Renoir as I could and wishing I brought my sketchbook. In real life, the colors are so much more vivid than they are when you view them online or in reproductions. The peaceful and tranquil scenes they painted, filled with color and life, just seemed to brighten up the room. The best way to view the Monet portion of the museum (which were scattered on the ground and first floor due to chronology) is to just sit before them and let the colors soak through you.

C'est magnifique! This is one of my favorite paintings in the museum.

Alas, all good things must come to an end and at the end of that day, I had to head back to England. Yet, I feel like I still haven't completely woken up from the dream of Paris, I still recall the rooms and the feeling of awe at finally seeing Manet's "Olympia" in the flesh (no pun intended). What I wouldn't give to go back and learn from the masters...

I can only hope that one day, I'll be able to go back with my sketchbook in tow and draw to my heart's content. Ah well, c'est la vie...

P.S. And since we are on the subject of artwork, I would just like to take a moment to plead with anyone who ever goes to museums to turn off your flash when you are taking the picture. I saw an endless number of people snapping pictures of the Mona Lisa and her companions using a flash, which angered me to no ends. Not only do you not get a good picture from it since it overly intensifies the color, you also ruin the paintings/sculptures. The heat in the flash breaks down the color pigmants and the material of the paintings. So unless you dont want the famous "Mona Lisa" or "Olympia" to be available to your great-grandchildren and their offsprings, turn off your flash. I am going to get off my soapbox now.

Of Paris, the sights!

So I'm very aware that I missed updating this blog last week and have loads of entries to add. This one will be about Paris. Yes, you heard right, I spent 4 days in Paris last week from the 7th to the 11th and it was amazing. How did I find the time away from my studies to go on this adventure?

Reading week (or Spring Break part 1 for me)!

Another quirky aspect about studying at the University of Warwick is the emphasis placed on self study. The result? An English college invention known as Reading Week where students are able to catch up on their books, perfect their essays, or have another excuse to be lazy (and from what I saw of my flatmates, no one actually read). In the case of the international students, we traveled... And where better to spend a lazy week than to start off the first 4 days in Paris!

I arrived in Paris on Saturday, February 7th after spending a night a day in London (which consisted of strolling and taking a picture next to Platform 9 3/4, yes, I am a dork). The quickest way to get to the City of Lights is via the Eurostar, from London, which is famous for going underneath the English channel. That popping sound that accompanied the trip was a little bit disconcerting when you realize it's caused by the water pressure that's just above you. Yet, the journey only took 2 hours so if anyone is in a rush and don't mind missing the sights in between Paris or London, then it's definitely worth the money (our fare was only 60 pounds round trip since we went at a non-peak travel time, which was really cheap considering it's normally 60 pounds one way).

The city of Paris is divided up into 5 zones with the center being zone 1 and the suburbia areas taking up zones 2-5. For anyone looking to spend a couple of days in Paris, do not even think about wandering outside of zone 1 (save for a day-trip to Versailles but even then, the journey 45 minutes from the center of the city each way). Instead, look to spending 10 euros (give or take) on each famous sight and eating copious amounts of food; I am now officially addicted to crepes and nutella, especially when eating them while walking down Parisian boulevards.

The Haussmann buildings which cover zone 1 of Paris date from the 1850's. The railings along the buildings were made so that soldiers can run along buildings and shoot down insurgents. I learned that during my art history classes. I find it so incredibly amazing that the buildings are still there, complete with the wide one-way boulevards to accompany them. It was as if my art history books came to life and readings about Haussmanization came back into my head, a very surreal experience.

On Sunday morning, after spending a restful night at the Hotel Cheapbeds, we took the metro into Paris. The first sight? The river Seine. Up close, it's actually quite murky yet somehow, that didn't ruin the magic, especially considering that most, if not all of the Parisian sights we saw was located around the river.

In the center of the river is the Notre Dame, which means Church of our Lady, made famous within Victor Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame and the Disney movie that ensued. The cathedral, with its flying buttresses, iconic facade, and gargoyles just seemed to inspire both feelings of awe and fear. It's so hard to believe that such a beautiful piece of architecture could have been used to store cattle after the French Revolution. Mon dieu!

I almost wanted to shout "Sanctuary!" when we got to the top of the bell tower, or open my arms a la Titanic.

For anyone wanting to go up to the top of the Notre Dame, beware, it is 400 spiraling steps up and 400 down (though only 5 euros, which is not bad considering you're doing most of the work going up and down). The sense of vertigo increases dramatically when you are going down since by that point, your legs are waiting to drop off from exhaustion and the circular direction is almost dizzying. But the view? Worth the burn.

"This is la vie en rose." This picture represents Paris for me.

Then, there was the piece de resistance: the Eiffel Tower...

Which sparkles every hour and boosts its own little revolving beam of light at the top (it's like a really tall lighthouse). Apparently, according to Gregoire, a French exchange student I met at Warwick, every New Years, Parisians congregate with wine and food on the Champ de Mars (the lawn in front of the tower) and cheer whenever the sparkles go off.

Even though going up the tower was overpriced (12 euros to take the elevator up!), it doesn't change the fact that the view of the city at night was amazing to behold, made all the more romantic (and freezing) since it was snowing at that altitude. If you, like me, have never been to France before, then going up the iconic tower was a necessity. If not, it's like going to New York City and not going up the Empire State Building, you're missing the chance to experience an iconic symbol. As my travel mate Allison puts it, they can charge you as much as they want because they know you're going to go up anyway. Qui...

Monday was the Louvre, which will be another entry in itself. Afterward, it was a 45 minute straight walk from there through through the Tuileries Garden (where sadly we didn't have tea like in so many a Monet and Renoir paintings)...

to the Place de la Concorde, the site where the Jacobins guillotined many during the French Revolution, including Marie Antoinette...

down the Champs Elysee with it's myriad of commercial shops which included both a Disney Store and Louis Vuitton...

to the Arc de Triomphe. After all, Paris was a city meant for strolling and enjoying the sights around you, with the lights, sounds, and clean streets (contrary to popular opinion, people do pick up after their dogs).

"It's a triumph just walking to the arch," says a very tired Lana, one of my travel mates.

Tuesday was Chateau de Versailles, located all the way in the 4th level of Paris. It was the home of the French monarchy from Louis XIV up to the Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette and can only be described in one word: shiny. And looking at the Rococo styled rooms lined with gold, made of marble, at the luxuriously woven tapestries, at the detailed paintings at the ceiling, at the ornate light fixtures, you understand where the French stereotype of excess comes from. It's gaudy, purely ornamental and almost tacky. But is overwhelming? Definitely. I had never seen so much gold in one place. It was almost frightening.

This is where the Treaty of Versailles was signed after WWI (which subsequently led to WWII)

Then Wednesday was the Musee de Orsay for me (since I am an art geek) and the French Catacombs for everyone else, (which was basically 2 miles of underground tunnel filled with human bones).

Afterward, we met up again and wandered into the bohemian district of Montmartre (it's where the Moulin Rouge is located) a bit north of the Seine, and up to the Basilique du Sacre Coeur (the Basilica of the Sacred Heart).

We encountered some very aggressive hecklers at the front of the church, who were trying to sell us severely overpriced bracelets. The key is to walk forward, keep your hands to yourself, and ignore them, especially if you don't want to spend 15 euros on a piece of string around your wrist. Despite that and the heavy walk up the church's steps (we were carrying our luggage on our back which made the walk seem akin to a pilgrimage), the view of the city late in the day, accompanied by an impromptu concert on the church steps (with the guitarist leading a sing along of "All You Need is Love") was the perfect ending to Paris.

I couldn't ask for a better last look.

To describe Paris in one word: magic. It's history, culture, and romance all rolled into one. And four days was just long enough to get a satisfying taste of it but just short enough so you are tempted to return. I know I want to.

Look out for my next posts on Parisian art and food since they were so good, they deserve their own post.

Frenchisms:

• Most place names in Paris are very direct, with names such as "Japanese Restaurant," "Bakery," or in our case, "Hotel Cheap Beds."
  

Of Winter Wonderlands

I had my first snow day today. At 11:30, I woke up to find that not only was my lecture for Restoration Literature cancelled (sweet!) but the subsequent discussion for that class was also cancelled (double sweet!). Not only that but upon opening my blinds, my sight was greeted by:


A drizzle of snow!

"One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;


And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter"

This was the sight at 12PM.

Then, 4 hours later, here is what it looked like:

"Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place"

Apparently, it's going to be worst tomorrow, which makes me almost giddy with excitement because I've never seen snow like that before. Though I must say, despite the fluffiness factor, walking in falling snow is a pain for your eyes (or in my case, my glasses). Especially when you go inside and everything melts so your clothes end up wet with melted snow. But seeing everything covered in white kind of makes up for the minor irritation factor.

I threw a fresh snowball at my neighbors and slipped on the sidewalks coming back from the grocery store. It's amazing how the presence of snow makes you feel like a kid. I can hear people outside laughing and throwing snowballs even though it's nighttime. As for me, I'm relaxing with a cup of hot chocolate and Kristin Chenoweth's Christmas CD.

"For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is."

- Wallace Stevens, "The Snow Man"

ETA:
According to the New York Times, this is the worst snow storm to hit Britain in 18 years and its expected to get worst. The snowball fights and frolicking this morning now makes a bit more sense. Thank goodness for heaters and hot chocolates.

"Heavy Snow Takes Britons by Surprise"
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/03/world/europe/03britain.html?em

Of London, Part Deux, Cont.

Sunday
The next day, we had to return back to campus by nighttime yet that did not deter us from taking in another one or two sights. This time, I got a better picture of Trafalgar Square in the daylight.

Not only that but we also visited my personal favorite space which appealed to the art historical geek within me: The National Gallery, where half of my textbook stems from. Sadly, they wouldn't let anyone take photographs (which is absurd since you can do so at the Metropolitan and MOMA in New York City, so long as the flash is not on). Not only that but I wanted to take pictures next to the paintings that up until now, I have only read about. Sadly, I only have my memories of the pieces such as the Jan Van Eyck's "Arnolfini Portrait," Paul Delaroche's "Execution of Lady Jane Grey" (the most popular painting in the gallery during the 1800's), and Georges Seurat "The Bathers." Not to mention the many Monet, Degas, Titian, and Rembrant pieces available for my eyes.

The strange thing is, for me, I grow restless within history museums yet when it comes to art museums, I cannot get enough of it. At one point, my travel mates had to wait for me to catch up since I was lingering in the Impressionist section of the gallery.

Oh, so many hours of reading and analyzation suddenly came back to me upon seeing those pieces and it just enhanced my appreciation of them all the more. For any type of art, whether it is classical, Renaissance, modern, or otherwise, one should always have a good background within the pieces. In that way, you gain more insight and pleasure upon viewing them than you would otherwise.

The highlight of my day

After an excersion into the National Portrait Gallery within the same building and a lunch in Chinatown (which led to another lurch of homesickness upon viewing the red balloons that signaled Tết), we braved the sprinkles of rain to make our way towards Buckingham Palace.

To say the least, it was an impressive sight and it's easy to see with such a grand structure why Britain holds onto its monarchy so tightly despite the system being all but ornamental at this point. It gives a regalness to the nation, a sense of heritage and an awareness of the oldest traditions.

"God save the Queen"

My final thoughts on this trip to London includes a sense of wonder, admiration, and chagrin. It is so hard to imagine that almost a thousand years of history is located within such a grand city.

That history is prevalent within the actions of the English; it's very based in heritage, in upholding tradition, whether that is through the changing of the guards, through the lampposts, or through preservation of the various architecture within London (or even, any other British town). For a girl from California - who has only ever been a part of modern architecture yet still part of an ethnic family who still upholds cultural traditions - London is wonderful to see and to experience, if only because I understand that need to hang onto your heritage, to cling onto that valuable piece of yourself that if gone, is lost forever.

Furthermore, I admire the respect allocated by the Brits to their city; you can see this in the spotless sidewalks (I did not see anyone litter nor were there large amounts of wastepaper baskets in the city. Yet, the streets were still spotless), the old buildings, regal and meticulously maintained, through the iconic red phone booths, and especially through the vibrant life that permeates what is commonly seen as an old city. It's timeless, both new and old, and more beautiful in its multifaceted nature.

Sadly, I've been here for two weekends now and I've only seen a small fraction of the city. And I can not wait to come back sometime soon and see more of it. Not to mention that contrary to popular opinion, the air is wonderfully clear here and there is no fog. Sweet!