Europe (Part VI): Cambridge

05 August 2014

The metropolitan tube is crammed, tighter than the shoe of Cinderella as it was forced onto the foot of the evil stepsisters. My butt was up against the back of an elderly woman, my hip was into the side of a businessman, and my face was up against Sarah's forehead until we stopped at Baker Street station. Most people got off the tube there, but the carriage was still decently full. Between Baker and King's Cross, a man in a white shirt and black pants toppled over and passed out from either dehydration, tiredness, or claustrophobia. When he came to, he was as pale as a Geist. The people of London typically ride in the tube rather silently, minding their own business and listening to music or reading the morning Metro paper. However, when the man passed out, people immediately gestured aid. A younger-looking man called out to open up a seat, for someone to offer the ill man some water, and for someone to fan him. People immediately made an open seat, supplied a few water bottles, and helped move the ill man to the seat. As soon as the man was seated, people resumed their silent businesses until their exit. I think that this just shows how quick people can act when seeing someone in need.

When the Inklings class arrived at King’s Cross to take the train up to Cambridge, we had about ten minutes until the departure. I got myself a cup of coffee in the meantime. When the departures board showed that the Cambridge train would be at platform 5, four of us Inklings got on the train at platform 5. As the train backed out of the station, we noticed that our seats were reserved for the ride between Peterborough and York. Uhh, Cambridge is not on the same route as Peterborough and especially not York. Shoot. The Cambridge train was entering the station as we were headed towards the northern borders of England.

We got off at the first stop: Stevenage. Amazingly, there would be a Cambridge-bound train at Stevenage in ten minutes. Much relieved, we bordered the Cambridge train and made it to the university only twenty minutes behind the rest of the group. We all met up at King’s College, the largest and most beautiful quadrangle in all of Cambridge. The King’s Chapel is massive and gorgeous. With the world’s largest fan vaulted ceiling and the walls covered in stained glass and gothic intricacies, I couldn’t help but drag my jaw on the floor as I gawked at the beauty of the interior. It is an ancient chapel, built between the times of Henry VI to Henry VIII. The entirety of King’s College Cambridge is elegant. After we finished with the college, we had an hour for lunch and shopping. We spent most of this time in old bookstores, where I was seriously tempted to purchase a 1906 complete works of Shakespeare, a mint condition The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, a 1966 The Hobbit or There and Back Again, and a first edition Screwtape Letters. Although all of these books were out of my price range, I wanted to get them so badly. Sarah found a first edition of Pride and Prejudice for £8 and J.T. found an Italian version of Dante’s Inferno from 1881 for £30.

After this exploring/shopping, we grabbed lunch; J.T. and I went into The Eagle, the most famous restaurant in Cambridge. David Unwin, Watson and Crick, and Stephen Hawking all dined here during the week. The discovery of DNA was first announced in the room where I sipped tomato soup and J.T. had a BLT. Amazing.

At 1300, we met back in front of King’s College and walked to Magdalene College, where C.S. Lewis held a chair during the final years of his life. On this walk from King’s to Magdalene, I came to the conclusion that I like Cambridge town far more than Oxfordshire. Oxford is too condensed and touristy. Although I would enjoy calling myself an Oxford student, Cambridge is more of a town for students. There is nowhere near as much tourism, and the town itself is far more quaint and homey.

Magdalene College was very small and unimpressive. I mean, I am comparing it to King’s College. If you put Belmont up to Magdalene, there would be no challenge; Magdalene would outdo Belmont any day of the week. We sat down in the chapel and learned from Parker about Lewis and the college’s history.

Then we embarked on a two mile hike through the land of farmers and to the Orchard, where plenty of famous authors and poets met and had breakfast while at Cambridge. Sylvia Plath, E.M. Forster, and T.S. Eliot frequently met here, along with C.S. Lewis frequently arriving for tea. During our walk through the fields, we stumbled upon a lamppost in the middle of a field. This random lamppost inspired the lamppost of Narnia. C.S. Lewis would walk by it every day he ventured over to the Orchard for tea. The old Victorian lamppost used to light the flooded and iced field long ago when it was used as a winter skating rink. Today, it remains as a reminder that fantasy and reality will collide if we just allow it.

At the Orchard I had some Earl Grey, a coffee and walnut slice of cake, and a scone with clotted cream. We sat and talked for a bit before the return journey from Grantchester to Cambridge and to the train station. All together, the journey was probably six miles.

The train ride home was just about an hour; we didn’t board the wrong one…When we got home, I got dinner and then finished my Tolkien paper before spending the remainder of the night taking it easy, playing solitaire and sudoku, and listening to old music. My time in London is drawing close to a close.

06 August 2014

I really enjoy the conversations that are held in the Inklings class. Our discussion today covered the rings of Middle Earth. Where did the dwarven rings go? Who wears the rings of the elves? Did you know that Gandalf possesses a ring? He bears the elven ring of fire. This gives him the ability to cast fireworks in Hobbiton and light a path in the dark mines of Moria. Galadriel wears the elven ring of earth, giving her the everlasting beauty of Lothlorien. Elrond wears the elven ring of water, protecting Rivendell from evil through the great rivers that flood when enemies are afoot. Now doesn't that just make a lot of sense!?

Then, after lunch, I sat in MMM and doodled in elvish. I have taught myself how to write in the language of the high elves. Although I cannot speak the language just yet, the written element is phonic, so I have quickly come to understand how it translates. I have been considering getting "The Road Goes Ever On And On" tattooed on my arm in high elvish. It is the first line to a hobbit walking-poem within the history of Middle Earth. Look it up. While I was doodling, half of my class presented their theses for the final paper. Because my material is found within the seventh Harry Potter book, I have until Friday to present.

After class let out, we had a "going home" meeting, where people asked ridiculously simple questions about flying home. I found this hour-long debacle quite irritating: I was so close to the end of my journey and I was sitting in a hot room, listening to questions like "what if I got stuff in London, do I need to show the flight?" or "do I still need to book my flight?"... Honestly, people.

After this meeting, I got some dinner before heading into town with Sara. We seem to have developed quite an awesome friendship on this trip. We get along like siblings. I really wanted some tea, so we went to the original Twining's tea shoppe. Little did I know, this shoppe is not the place to sit down over a pot of tea and relax. This is a place where you buy fancy teas and go home to make it yourself. Because it was the original Twining's, I just had to get myself some loose leaf for home. I went with English Breakfast.

After this change of events, Amanda and I went walking down the Strand when we stumbled on the most interesting of high-end cafés. The Delaunay is a German café that has a menu in deutsch. Ich liebe dass! I am home! We sat down and I ordered a pot of tea and a half pint of Steigl. Apparently, Stiegl is the world's best beer (according to this pub and - upon further research - supported by the German National Beer Association). We chatted and sipped our drinks as the sky slowly darked from deep blue to dark gray. When the night grew more and more, we left and wandered around the theatre district of London. I absolutely love this area, including Covent Gardens and Chinatown. We probably walked up and down each street in a two mile radius. Sara and I watched as the sky lessened in color and the buildings lit up. The streets of Covent Gardens were littered with a million and a half people crammed into such narrow passages. The cars zoomed down the main streets and narrowly avoided colliding with each other and the pedestrians on the sidewalks.

When we got to Chinatown, we got to looking for a cheap place to grab a late night snack. Lo and behold, a street vendor happened upon us, selling pork dumplings. My oh my... Although the risk of ordering a large pork dumpling from a portable Chinese food vendor seems high, the taste of the meatball wrapped in gooey breading was to die for (double meaning, there). After we finished these meatballs and waited for imminent coronary disease, we “minded the gap” all the way to Hampstead. We were still hungry, but at this point, crêpes were all we could think about. There is this adorable little crêpe stand in Hampstead that has been all the rage for the CCSA students, so we went to get some CCSA-famous pudding (dessert). To our demise, the stand was closed for the day. Tragedy commenced. We went without our heart's most desired thing that night.

We meandered back to campus and spent some time just hanging out with some other friends. By the time I was about ready for bed, more friends joined and I ended up staying up late into the night before getting into my warm bed and dreaming of nutella crêpes and pork dumplings.

07 August 2014

When my brother and I were younger, we would spend quite a bit of our time whittling on sticks and fashioning ourselves wands. We would creep around and learn spells and cast them on each other, the things around us, and for the sake of good and evil, never let the magic rest. The moment we retired as wizards, the moment dark magic would overtake the world. We would go to the midnight premieres of the new movies, choose our Hogwarts house, and even pretend we were students at the illustrious school for witches and wizards. This was my childhood in a nutshell.

The entirety of my childhood was fulfilled today. As I walked around the studio of the filming of all Harry Potter films, I was not watching my favorite series on a screen. It was not just in front of me. I was not observing the wizarding world. I was within it. I had finally, after all of these years, become a true wizard. The tour began in the Great Hall, where the students of Hogwarts ate every meal and listened to Dumbledore announce school-wide information. I stood where Harry did the day he was cast into Griyffindor. I stood at the foot of the Slytherin table, where I would have been seated if I had chosen Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry over Belmont University. Foolish mistake on my part! After my time walking around the Great Hall, I entered the most magical room I have ever entered or will enter in my entire life. Everything from Hagrid's hut to the Burrow, flying broomsticks to the actual makers of said broomsticks, the Goblet of Fire to the Philosopher's Stone, the horcruxes of Tom Riddle to the Cloak of Invisibility, the office of Dolores Umbridge to the dorm room of Potter, Longbottom, and Weasley. I looked into the Mirror of Esired. The. Mirror. Of. Esired. I saw myself as an older and weathered man, with many miles under my belt and a wisdom that only came with the many places that I had ventured to, books written by my pen and about my life, pupils that had learned from me and great teachers that had taught me great things. It wasn't a shallow Gilderoy Lockhart-esque fame; it was a fame like that of the man in Walter Mitty (the photographer). I was happy and in love. My family was with me and happy, too.

I had butterbeer, took a ride on the Knight Bus, lamented Dobby as I looked over his body, sat down in Potions class and touched the book of the half-blood prince, and opened the chamber of secrets. After taking a stroll around the Hogwarts model that is probably the size of a small house and wandering down Diagon Alley, I went into Olivander's and found myself the perfect wand. Yes, I did purchase a wand. It has Phoenix feather and is made of white bone. It is very much of the same essence as Voldemort's wand. Strange how that happened...

I could go on for pages and pages about this experience, but I will not do that now. This is, after all, a journal about my time in Europe, not a retelling of my childhood imagination. I spent many hours in the Warner Bros. Harry Potter Studio and even teared up at some of the things within this last remnant of the wizarding world. After a great swelling of emotion, the group of us that finished at the same time had wizarding duels in the parking lot while we waited for the bus.

When we made it back into London, four of us - Chloe, Elise, Jonny, and me - went to Wahaca, where I had tacos. When we finished our meal and made it back to campus, I quickly fell asleep in my bed. Because of the late night and early morning, my body and mind were begging for rest. After an hour, I awoke and walked down to Café Nero with Parker to have tea and do some studying before our finals tomorrow. I had a pot of Earl Grey and Parker had a pot of English Breakfast. We stayed in West Hampstead for an hour and a half before walking back to campus for dinner. More studying followed our supper. Until late into the night, we did last minute paper edits and book summaries before calling it a night and letting God handle our finals from that point forward. As for me, the day closed and I quietly whispered Mischief Managed as, with a flick of my wand, the light went out and I drifted off into a deep and magical slumber.

08 August 2014

I woke up groggier than any day yet. My body needed more sleep. But today was the most important day of my summer term: finals day. First up: MMM. I presented third from the end, so the suspense had grown. I was speaking on the Deathly Hallows and Harry Potter, Severus Snape, and Tom Riddle. I am not the most avid knower of wizarding knowledge when put up against my classmates, so nerves were shaking. However, post-presentation, I had many students approach me and compliment my unique argument and speaking skills. Yay! Now I had time to inhale my lunch, begin my packing, and study for Inklings class. The first hour of class was devoted to our final examination. I knew all but one answer (And rather foolishly, too. I couldn’t remember where lieth Esgaroth, the Lake Town below the Lonely Mountain!). I also finished first, for I am a fast test taker. I packed some more and then sat around while everyone read his or her paper aloud. Some were interesting; others not so much. But once we walked out of the classroom, freedom was upon us.

How would any Englishman celebrate the finality of two intensive classes? Well, what better way than tea with friends? We headed down to Café Nero, where some of us ordered pots of tea. Earl Grey for me, as always. After our tea was drunk and our minds were settled, we walked about half a block to Mamacita's. Our waiter was from California! I had chips and salsa, trying to keep my spending to a minimum.

After our Mexican food was consumed, we walked back to campus where I left the group to finish packing. I did so, and then rejoined them for festivities in the dormatory common room, where we were listening to music, playing ping-pong, and celebrating our finals finality.

I stayed with the group until 10:30, at which point I went back to my room, brushed my teeth, checked my flight time again, and hit the hay. Tomorrow has wonderful things in store...