Just one of those days where your dreams come true...

***This post was written on Monday, July 2nd 2012***

Wow.

I love London. 

I love British Studies.

It’s been great America, but I don’t know how you’re ever going to convince me to come back home.

Today was absolutely wonderful. 

Class started at 9 this morning, and we talked about themes in Harry Potter and Fairy Tales for 3 hours…could an English geek be more content then this in a classroom?

When class ended, I advertised that I was going to see Westminster Abbey and asked if anyone else was interested in tagging along. One of the PhD students, Jolene, said sure, why not, and we were off!

Westminster Abbey was everything I ever dreamed of and even more. Jolene and  I talked the whole way to the ancient cathedral which resulted in us accidentally taking the very very long way, but it was worth it to get to know a new and very interesting person! When we made it to Westminster the line to get in wasn’t nearly as long as I was expecting it to be (all of the other tourists were scared away by a cold, rainy, Monday afternoon) and we were walking through the tall, wooden doors before we knew it. 

To say my breath was taken away would be an understatement. To say tears welled up in my eyes would be putting it mildly. To say that all of the anticipation that had accumulated in my heart over the years was overwhelmingly and joyously satisfied would be almost there…but honestly, nothing can describe how perfectly this afternoon at Westminster fulfilled all the hopes and dreams I had for it.

Outside the beautiful Westminster Abbey

In 1066, the coronation of William the Conqueror took place in this spot. Since then these ancient stone walls have witnessed the coronation of every British monarch as well numerous weddings and funerals, and has been the final resting place for Edward the Confessor, Queen Elizabeth I, “Bloody” Mary, King Henry III, Edward VI, Queen Mary of Scots... the list goes on.

Best of all, Westminster Abbey is the home of Poet’s Corner. 

Ever since my senior year of high school when I studied an extensive cannon of poets and authors I have dreamed of standing in the middle of Poet’s Corner, where almost all of them have been laid to rest.

I touched the grave of Geoffrey Chaucer. I stood on the monument to Cademon, the first English language poet whose work dates 1,300 years. I saw the grave of Charles Dickens, John Dryden, Rudyard Kipling, Lord Alfred Tennyson, and best of all…Thomas Hardy.

I’m not going to lie. I cried of joy when I found the tombstone for Thomas Hardy. With warm tears in my eyes, I ignored all the other tourists and knelt on the floor to run my fingers over his name. I stood on his tombstone gazing at it with all the warmth and joy in my heart of someone who has just discovered a long lost friend. When I was in 9^th grade I was assigned to pick an author, read two of his/her novels over the course of the year, and do a presentation on him/her. I picked Thomas Hardy and read Far From the Madding Crowd as well as Tess of the D’Urbervilles, which instantly became my second favorite book (only because nothing can replace Gone With the Wind). Since then I have read Hardy's novels Return of the Native and Jude the Obscure, and it is my goal to read every novel he has ever written (even the ones that got terrible reviews!).  But I still remember discovering in my research all those years ago that, although Hardy was a great novelist, he desired most to be remembered as a poet, and his greatest wish was to be buried in Poet’s Corner. 

I already knew that this wish had been fulfilled for him, but when I saw the tombstone with my own eyes, lying so close to Chaucer and in the company of a dozen other brilliant, British writers, I was proud of dear Hardy and overjoyed that this dream of his could be granted.  It took Jolene reminding me that we only had an hour before we needed to be back at the dorms to rip me from the spot where my beloved author and—in my mind, friend—lay. Poet’s Corner was everything I had hoped for and even more. I even discovered that George Handel was buried here as well; this small fact was only the icing on the cake.

High Tea in England!!

Once Jolene had finally succeeded in tearing me from the spot I had longed to stand in for so many years (although she loved it just as much as I did) we explored a Jubilee picture display celebrating Britain’s beloved current Queen Elizabeth II, found the tombs of Charles Darwin and Isaac Newton, and three hours after entering we were once more standing in front of Westminster Abbey instead of within its sacred walls.

On our way back to the dorms we bumped into a lovely tea café, and since it was 3:30 all of the Brits were enjoying their relaxing, afternoon tea. We sauntered into the café seeking refuge from the rain and split a kettle of warm, soothing tea. The tea was served in adorable, floral china and we sat in comfortable, white arm chairs to sip it and continue talking each other’s ears off. I have officially had my first English High Tea, and it was simply marvelous.

Just a side note, I know everything I write about is either “incredible,” “spectacular,” “amazing,” “breath-taking,” “marvelous,” and the like, but I assure you—each and every one of these words is written only with total conviction of my heart! Because that is exactly how wonderful London is.

This evening all 150 British Studies students as well as our professors gathered in the beautiful and ornate King’s College Chapel for a welcome service and reception. After inspirational speeches, a moment of silence, and a loud applause for our spectacular professors everyone gathered in the Great Hall downstairs for a feast of wine and chicken, vegetable sticks, shrimp, tomato and feta cheese, raspberry and peanut butter mousse cups and many other delicious delicacies to fit anyone’s fancies. Since the night was still young, I left the reception with Jolene and three other girls from my class as well as a young man from the music industry class to try some pub hopping in Covent Gardens. We hit up one lovely pub playing Oldies just in time for the end of Happy Hour, then went to an Italian restaurant and bar for those who hadn’t filled up at the reception to enjoy pizza and salad. I tried out some kind of raspberry lemonade martini that was pretty cheap, but don’t ask me for the exact name of it because I am far from being a mixed drink expert. 

My fellow Westminster Abbey explorer, Jolene!

Now it’s time to call it a night so that I can be refreshed and ready for another fun filled and amazing day in London tomorrow! Until then, cheers my friends.