a closing...

Wow.

I’m done.

My final days of London behind me, I’m left with longing reflections of the greatest experience that has ever happened to me, and probably ever will. I’m still in disbelief that it has all gone and finished. I can no longer walk down the street and see Buckingham Palace. I’m currently sitting in the lounge of the dormitory where I’m spending my summer semester. I’ve been home and am gone again already. Looking out the window, there’s a torrential downpour; it reminds me of London. And, today in class, a girl came walking in wearing a “LONDON ENGLAND” tourist shirt; one, in fact, that I made fun of Val for buying at one point in the semester.

My final days in London staged themselves as the most incredible grand finale. My days and nights were spent wandering the streets of London or packing and commiserating in the house with everyone—but keep in mind it was a festive and joyful commiserating. Those final days—Wednesday, Thursday and Friday—I only got about ten hours of sleep in total. Thursday was the final Central outing scheduled. They had gotten the class tickets to see Wicked on the West End. I’ve always enjoyed the show, as cute and commercial as it has become, so it was a nice thing to see. It was bizarre, however, to see it with British accents. I just couldn’t get used to it for some reason. There were quite a few obnoxious fan-girls in the audience as well, so that was pretty unfortunate. Thursday night was also really hard because some people were flying out early Friday morning, so that was our last chance to say goodbye.

Friday morning, Andy and I decided it was time to achieve our ultimate London goal. We woke up and got in line at 6:45 a.m. to get day-of rush tickets to see Patrick Stewart and Sir Ian McKellen in Waiting for Godot. We were the second people in line, but the box office didn’t open up until 10 a.m.! We entertained ourselves with a two-hour game of War and eating Easter M&Ms. It was well worth the wait, because as we bought the tickets, we were informed that our seats were in the first row. Yes, you read that right… THE FIRST ROW. We were giddy. The day was spent simply in anticipation of the evening.

The show melted my face off. The caliber of acting I witnessed was beyond human comprehension. It really was something to see. Both men, as well as the rest of the cast, did such epically fantastic jobs that I don’t think I could ever accurately put into words what I saw. However, after the show is when it got really exciting! After the show, we got the idea in our heads that we could find the stage door to the theatre, so we wandered around back and there were a dozen or so people congregated around a certain door. We assumed this was the right spot, but to put an end to our quandary, a man walked out and informed us that they’ll only sign things from Waiting for Godot, they won’t pose for pictures and if we have a harsh flash on our cameras, turn them off. In hindsight, I should have just taken the picture and then apologized if it offended them. Even if I don’t have their pictures, I still have their autographs. YES!!!!! Yes, you read that right! They signed my program and a poster I purchased! Andy and I turned into 14-year-old girls at a Miley Cirus concert.

Patrick Stewart was the first to emerge. He carried himself with such an air of dignity; and what made it more impressive was the fact that he did it without any feeling of hubris. When he got to me, I stuttered out a “thank you,” to which he sort of looked me up and down—like he was giving me a once over. Then, he points at the bowtie I’m wearing and says, “I saw you; you were sitting in the first row.” That Miley Cirus joke is truer than I stressed before. I thought I was going to faint. I stuttered out something before Andy started complimenting him. Obviously, we stick out like sore thumbs because we lack a proper accent, so then Mr. Stewart (it seems blasphemous to call him Patrick) asked where we were from. We told him we were study abroad students and it was out last night in London. He said he was honoured that we chose to spend our last night watching the show he was in. The only thing I could think to say was, “no, really sir, thank you.” After he hopped in his car and left, we stood their, completely star-struck and still reeling from the encounter, as Sir Ian McKellen walks out. In stark contrast, Sir McKellen’s appearance can only be likened to a sweet old grandpa who was happy to see an old friend. He was so gracious to everyone. When he got to my poster, he signed it and noticed there was a pin on my lapel. I had put a pin on my lapel that read “I defy you, stars!” (from Romeo and Juliet at the Globe). He asked me what it read—as my lapel was at a height taller than him, so he was leaning up and toward me to try and read it. When I explained it, he said he heard it was good, to which again, my only response was an annoyingly cheesy one: “well, it was no Waiting for Godot, but it was really good.” When Andy thanked him, like his co-star, he asked us where we were from. After it was all said and done, it was to the point where Andy and I could only make noises—we were far too happy and flabbergasted to form articulate words.
Also, when it was said and done, a guy who’d been standing next to us the entire time stopped us and asked where we were from if we were study abroad students—he’d obviously overheard us stammering to Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart. Andy said he was from Iowa, to which the man asked if we were studying through the Central College Programme. Much to our shock, he informed us that when he was an undergrad, he studied in Paris through Central. Then, We asked him where he was from. He said he was from Indiana. I couldn’t believe it. I asked him where in Indiana; he explained that he was a poly-sci professor at the University of Evansville who was on some sort of teaching abroad program and it was also his final night in London. As if coincidental serendipity hadn’t slapped us in the face hard enough, I decided to ask him if he’d been a Hoosier all his life. He said yes, and said, “I grew up in a crappy little city that’s really down in the dumps: Elkhart.” I almost squeaked; I couldn’t believe my ears. I burst out laughing. He apparently went to Memorial High School. My last night in London, the world got a little smaller.

My flight home was surprisingly amazing. For whatever reason, they didn’t have a ticket for me, so they put me in a seat in the business class. I flew home with an ample amount of legroom; it was pretty sweet. I watched four films on the flight—Frost/Nixon, Milk, The Wrestler and Taken.

Looking back now, this semester is without a doubt the greatest thing I’ve ever done. Anything bad that happened seems like a joke when put into perspective. I mean, I spent four-ish months living less than a mile from both Big Ben and Buckingham Palace I would like to publically thank everyone who made it possible: my parents for being entirely supportive of my dream; everyone at Central who accepted my application late and still gave me the opportunity to go, especially Mark and Lauren who made London so amazing and put up with me and the rest of us students.

I’ve also collected a few tidbits of advice for any future abroad students who are headed to London. Maybe these quips will aid you in your travels. They’re not much, but they’re things that have been recurring in my head as things I wish someone would have told me.

• When you get to London, don’t waste your money taking a shuttle. It may be a convenience, but it’s an expensive one. The idea of taking public transport may initially be frightening, but within a week and a half of being in London, it won’t anymore; so you may as well get used to it as fast as possible.
• Don’t buy a map unless you really think you’ll really need it. I found that if I was ever even mildly lost, I could find a bus stop because they have local maps printed there.
• Take the bus! Please don’t ride the tube everywhere you go. For my first month or so there, I really didn’t know much of the city, I just knew the area around tube stops. I would just go from tube stop to tube stop without having any idea where I was. The day I started
• Never say no. Experience everything you can. Try everything (food included). Don’t let anything stop you from trying everything humanly possible while abroad. Mark said something to us that I’ve held true the entire semester. “There are no bad experiences, only great travel stories.” Even if bad things happened to me, it was all part of the experience and so I embraced it.
• Don’t be afraid to do things yourself. You’ll make great friends on your trip, one’s you’ll want to share every experience with, but don’t be a dependent. It’s annoying and no fun. I’m as extroverted as the next guy (if not moreso), but some of my best memories of London happened while I was by myself.



Cheers…