An Entire Week for Reading?

They call it Reading Week.

By "they," I mean the professors and students at Kingston University.
And when I say "Reading Week," I am referring to a week-long break given to British university students in the middle of each semester. I've been told that this is implemented so that students can catch up on any reading, writing, or studying that might have piled up during the endless slog of college life. This probably works quite well during the Fall Semester, when there is such a long stretch of classes without any extended breaks; I know I always feel burnt out come November. But during Spring Semester, Reading Week falls directly before Easter Vacation, essentially giving us a three-week spring break.

I see no problem with this whatsoever. Personally, I will be spending my time in Angers, France with Jenn. She'll still have classes, so I'm anticipating spending a relaxing week in the French countryside, reading The Mill on the Floss for my 19th Century Novel class, sampling new cuisine and getting some top-notch studying done for my French exam. The relaxation of the week will be a perfect prelude to Spring Break, when Jenn and I plan to hit nine English cities within five days before Mom arrives. But more about that in a different post.

I will be flying to Tours late Sunday afternoon. Jenn is going to meet me at the airport (I don't have much faith in my French-speaking abilities, so I insisted), then we'll catch a train back to Angers. In the meantime, I will be fighting the temptation to take the week's name at its word and purchase two books from Border's that have caught my eye.

They call it Reading Week.

I call it one of the most wonderful ideas I've ever heard of. Why haven't they thought of this in the U.S.?

Hide and Seek: Just a Small Blurb

After returning from Liverpool yesterday afternoon, I was able to spend the remainder of the day relaxing, working on homework, and recovering from my trip.

And I wasn't the only one. My landlady's cat, Poppy, seemed to enjoy cacooning herself in my rolled-up duvet. After a while, all I could see were a pair of green eyes and some paws sticking out of the mound of white. That wasn't as disturbing as the purring, though.

Regulars at the Cavern Club

I've just gotten back from a weekend in Liverpool, albeit a day early. We were able to take a complete bus tour yesterday and found an extra day to be surplus.

When I say "complete bus tour," I'm referring to the Magical Mystery Tour, the tour mentioned in and made famous by the Beatles' song. It took us around to all the famous sites related to the band--Strawberry Fields, Penny Lane, the Cavern Club, and the original houses of all four of the members. Needless to say, it was sweet. I can't even claim to be a huge Beatles fan, yet I still had a blast!

The best part about the weekend was definitely hanging around the Cavern Club. It was dark and...well, cavernous. Elle, Rebecca, and I went there several times in the two days we spent in Liverpool. You could say we became regulars at the place. Rebecca sometimes ordered a Guiness, but Elle and I mainly stuck to the less expensive drinks...tap water, for instance, or a Coke if we felt more experimental.

The trip was awesome, but it definitely had its downpoints, too. For one, the hostel room we stayed in smelled like sweaty gym socks. Try going to sleep when you feel as if your nose hairs are being singed! Also, I was sick on Saturday, the day we took the tour. I forced myslef to go and ended up having fun anyway, yet the pain ruined parts of the experience for me. Oh, well.

We said goodbye to Liverpool this morning with one last trip to Albert Dock (where the wind is strong enough to blow you off your feet) and to the Cavern Club. The club was closed, since it was barely ten o'clock, but we did get to visit my ol' pal John leaning against the Wall of Fame. One trip I'll never forget!

Expectations

I know I haven't updated for a couple weeks, and this can't even be considered a true post. It's more like a blurb. I've had ideas, just not the time to write them. I'm going to Liverpool tomorrow for the weekend, though, so I expect to have stories to write about when I get back. Meanwhile, you'll just have to wait!

The Best Trip I Could Have Imagined!

I'm conscious and able to concentrate, so here is the post I've promised about my unbelievably amazing trip to Jane Austen's house yesterday!

If you know me at all, you know that Jane Austen is my all-time favorite author. I read Pride and Prejudice at least twice a year; its subtle satirical social commentary is brilliant and waxes poetic. No one writes like that anymore. :(

This being said, you can imagine my excitement when I found out that her house--which has been turned into a museum for the public--was a mere train ride away in Chawton, Hampshire. A day that promised to be boring was turned into one of literary enrichment and--shall I say?--almost undue excitement. Seriously, we're talking paper bag hyperventilation here.

I went with three other English majors from the Study Abroad program--Jessica, Kendyl, and Briann, all of whom were almost as excited as I. The train left late morning, so we were at our destination around noon. None of us had had a proper breakfast and I knew we wouldn't enjoy the trip if our stomachs were empty, so we decided to grab lunch before going inside the house museum. Across the street from the Chawton residence was a quaint, very British tea shop, complete with decorative tea cups hanging on hooks from the ceiling. We each ordered--what else?--a pot of tea and a sandwich. I also had a scone topped with clotted cream and jam that was delectable...and I know I sound like such a snob right now!

After lunch came the fun part! I couldn't have stopped smiling if you paid me. Just walking into the entryway was amazing when I thought that Jane Austen had stepped through that very door! I was taken down from heaven momentarily upon learning that we weren't allowed to take pictures inside, though. Bummer, but oh well. Life can't be perfect, can it? But it can get pretty close!

There were a lot of little plaques and drawings on the walls, describing certain aspects of life in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century. Some of the rooms were set up exactly as they had been back in the day, while others were set more like the museum it had become. They had also provided several examples of period clothing on dummies around the rooms. We were all especially excited about Jane Austen's little writing table set near the window. It was painfully small but authentic, the real table that she handwrote her stories upon every night. Several letters were also hung on the wall, written in her own hand--though I couldn't read the thin, spidery letters. But who cares?

And of course, there was a gift shop and a bookshop, which for me was like throwing a steak in front of a starving man. I found it hard not to go crazy in my purchases. As it was, I bought several postcards, a cross-stitching set with a picture of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, and some stationary. I had to keep reminding myself that I'll be back during spring break, when Jenn and I go on our literary trip around England. Even so, it was nearly painful when it came time to leave. After a quick tour around the garden, though, we had to leave in order to catch the bus back to the train station. I just can't wait to return with Jenn, who I know will be just as excited as I was--and still am!