two weeks from today...

...My parents will be here! Can't wait!

Today we went on a little (6 mile) walk through Holland Park.  The weather here is amazing so even though it was getting dark, it was perfect. I'm so excited to go home, but days like today make me realize how much I'm going to miss London.

the imperial war museum

Today we went to the Imperial War Museum.  It was really interesting.  We wandered through the exhibits on World War I, World War II, and other post-WWII wars.  Then we headed upstairs to the Holocaust section of the museum.  I spent the longest amount of time there, but it was also really hard to see. The stories were so sad and the atrocities committed were so disturbing.  I left feeling really depressed. But even though seeing all those things are really difficult, I think it's important that we remember because that way hopefully nothing like the Holocaust will happen again.

sunny day

Jacket potato at Covent Gardens. Beautiful parks where everyone and their dog (literally) gathers -- obviously no one in London works. Maybe sunny days are holidays here?  Ice cream shakes. Kensington gardens. Tanning on the roof. Just kidding, I don't tan. Spring is here in London!

the sunday from ... you-know-where

No picture for today, folks.  Today was traumatic enough without one.  It started off like any other Sunday: get up, start getting ready, head downstairs to devour lots of bananas and that really great yogurt with little bits of cookie in it.  But it turns out that the Hyde Park stake (aka the stake that Alvaro and Thais -- the amazing food people -- attend) had switched its fast Sunday to today.  I'm not a member of the Hyde Park stake and it wasn't my fast Sunday, but somehow that message either wasn't relayed to Alvaro or conveniently ignored, so we embarked on a centre-wide enforced fast.  It's not really that bad to not eat breakfast, but it's slightly disappointing when the only reason I didn't gobble up a midnight snack on Saturday was the thought of breakfast on Sunday.  But I decided to be in a good mood anyway and managed to get ready and leave the centre by 8:45.

We hopped onto the District Line and headed to Wimbledon. Halfway through, the train made its normal stop at Parsons Green. Here's where the problems began. The conductor announced that the train wouldn't be continuing on, so we'd have to get off and wait for the next train.  We weren't panicked yet because when we got off, we saw that the next one was coming in 5 minutes.  So I hopped around like a crazy person because I was cold (actually I didn't do that, but I wanted to) and finally the next train arrived. The doors opened and a lady stepped off and said, "The train's stopping here." So it turns out that the entire line closed.  This was a problem because A) We were in Parsons Green and B) We had no idea where Parsons Green actually is. So we ran to the bus stop, which, let me tell you, was not all that easy to find, and promptly discovered that Mitcham (where our ward is) wasn't on the map.  So we asked some nice man to help us, and he said something like, "Get on the bus, head to Putney, get on a train to Clapham Commons, swim the English channel, hitch a road on a freight, tap dance across South America, surf back to Africa, parasail into Birmingham . . ." I forget the rest. But seriously, there were a billion steps to his directions.  So we nodded and pretended like we understood and then hopped on the bus.  

We sat there for a few stops, then transferred to another bus that said it would take us to Mitcham.  At this point, we realized that Mitcham is probably a decent-sized suburb of London (if you can call it a suburb -- I'm not sure what the proper word is) and we know exactly one corner in the entire area because that's where our church is located.  We knew that this corner is by the tramlink, so we asked the bus driver which stop would get us closest to that.  He said that we were on the wrong bus and told us which one to transfer to.  So we hopped on that bus.  A few stops later, things started to look a little familiar, so we hopped off.  Bad plan.  We realized it was the wrong stop about 5 seconds after we got off, so we had to wait for another bus to come pick us up.  By this point we were definitely panicking because -- I may have forgotten to mention -- Rachel and Courtney were speaking in sacrament.  We finally arrived in Mitcham (at the exact corner we wanted), so Rachel asked if the bus driver could just let us off.  He said no, because obviously we're Americans and it would be completely out-of-character for him to be helpful, so we had to wait until the next bus stop.  We ran back to the church, which was probably really funny since we were in dresses and nice shoes, and arrived just as the clock struck 10:45 (sacrament started at 10).  We were torn between being really embarrassed, wanting to leave, and wanting to laugh so we didn't cry.  George, my favorite 12-year-old, was randomly standing there and he said, "You missed it!" We explained what happened and he said, "You took five buses? Why did you do that? That's stupid! There's one that comes straight here." Then he proceeded to give us a look like we were probably the most pathetic creatures on the planet. I kind of wanted to drop him off in South Jordan and tell him to try to get to Salt Lake and see how he'd like it. Good luck, kid. But actually that wouldn't be fair because Americans actually like British people so they'd probably be way too helpful. As we passed the first door (we'd decided not shame ourselves more by walking in and taking the front row and instead sit in the gym and listen), Elder Kendell happened to look over and he started laughing.  I'm glad someone found it funny (actually I found it a tiny bit funny, but that's probably just because I'd already given my talk so basically it was a lack of sympathy on my part). Turns out everyone thought we'd forgotten the time change and that's why Courtney and Rachel missed their talks. So to protect our pride we had to inform everyone that no, we hadn't forgotten the time change, and actually the District line had closed down with us on it, then we wandered around Parsons Green, basically walked through all of England . . . actually I'm pretty sure what I actually managed to say when Elder Kendell came over to gloat was, "Five buses!" before we crawled away and hid under a rock.

Then he said, "Elder Hatch wanted to come talk to you guys about your talks after church" -- so obviously I'm not really all that important because clearly I'm not included in that group -- "but since you didn't give them, he couldn't."

Such sympathy.  It touched my heart.  And this coming from the missionary who had never spoken a single word to us before.

Then he said, "I told him I'd come talk to you guys instead since he couldn't," (wouldn't? He's normally not that shy) and informed us that General Conference would be played at the Stake Center on Saturday and we should definitely be there.

Turns out that both he and Elder Hatch are going home in just a few months.  So somehow their friendliness now kind of makes sense.  Maybe they're finally seeing the light at the end of the run!-it's-a-girl tunnel.

Primary was slightly better than the earlier part of our day in the sense that Ramsey (or Abba -- they're sisters and I can't tell them apart still) only ripped about half of my hair out of my head when she "plaited" (aka braided) it.  This is an accomplishment because normally I come home practically bald. And then the Elders Quorum president (who's like 21 -- crazy!) checked the Transport for Londoners website on his phone and informed us that the District line was up and running again.  It took me about 30 seconds to figure out what he was talking about (Phone? What is that? I think I had one of those once . . .) then we crawled back to the tram station in shame.

Actually it wasn't all that bad. The ward members were really nice and the first counselor was very understanding.  The youth probably hate us because they had to bear their testimonies about some youth activity they had over the weekend to fill in for us. But yeah. I wouldn't recommend missing your talk in the near future. And if you do, blame it on the District line.

edinburgh

We didn't get to spend very long in Edinburgh (pronounced Ed-in-burr-uh), but it was just long enough to make me really fall in love with the city.  After we checked into our hostel, which was actually really nice, we walked up to Edinburgh Castle, which is at the top of Princes Street.  It was a true Scottish castle -- none of that ornate flowery gold stuff or those murals on the ceilings (yeah, I'm talking to you, France and England).  Everything was simple and stone with coat-of-arms everywhere, which was a nice change after the femininity of Versailles.  I really enjoyed the Scottish War Memorial, which is mostly dedicated to World War I but also contains dedications to the other wars and a Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (that's not what it's called, but I forget the actual name).

We saw the Scottish Parliament building, which is this weird modern-stone thing with bamboo on the front, then walked up to Calton Hill.  During the Scottish Enlightenment, people started to build a copy of the Parthenon.  But they ran out of money so instead just one wall stands and overlooks the city.  The view was beautiful.  As we were walking back, we saw a bagpipe/drum performance that was really impressive and then hit up the little shops up and down the streets (some of them, especially the Christmas shops, were so cute).  Then, to continue my try-one-weird-food-in-every-country kick, I had a little bite of haggis.  I say little because although the taste wasn't bad, the texture was really mushy.  You'll understand why if you read the wikipedia definition of haggis: "Haggis is a kind of savoury pudding containing sheep's pluck (heart, liver, and lungs)" -- yummy.  Luckily when the waiter that served it to us commented about us leaving basically all of it still on the plate, he confessed that he didn't like it either ("it freaks me out a little" were his exact words if I remember correctly).

The people were really friendly, tons of them wore kilts, and I got to see the restaurant where JK Rowling first started writing Harry Potter, so I was a happy girl.  Plus I have to confess that I love bagpipes.  Weird, I know.  We only had about a day there, but I'd really like to go back someday because Scotland was so beautiful and the people were great.

hilltop

Today we went to Hilltop, which is Beatrix Potter's home.  It's really interesting because she left it to the National Trust in her will (so either she was already famous and pretty confident that people would want to see her house or she was just really full of herself and figured she'd be famous someday. Not sure which). This means that even the furniture is exactly how it would have been when she lived there. In each room was a little version of one of her stories, and it was opened to a specific page. On the page there would always be something she'd drawn from life -- a cabinet in the corner or a mouse hole under the door or something like that.  It turns out she found a lot of inspiration for her illustrations in her daily life. And then we wandered through her garden and happened to see a bunny, which was obviously Peter Rabbit taking a break from Mr. MacGregor's garden to hang out in Beatrix's. So cool. I had to buy a cute little Peter Rabbit book just because I love those stories (I'm pretty sure that my first real book report was Jemima Puddle Duck. Is that right, Mom? You might remember). And in little towns like the one Beatrix lived in, they still whitewash the houses just like they would have done when she was there. So quaint. Don't be surprised if I'm checking real estate listings there for the next 50 years and drooling over a little house with a garden and lots of bunnies hiding in my vegetables (because let's face it, I don't really like them anyway. Bon apetite, bunnies).

life in ambleside

This is Ambleside, home to William Wordsworth and plenty of sheep.  When you picture "English countryside," this is it.  It's no wonder that Wordsworth wrote as many beautiful poems as he did.  Today we got to do a few hikes/walks that were really incredible.  I'm proud to say that I was a member of the "sporty six" (those of you who know me are welcome to laugh/faint now) and I hiked to the top of the mountain/hill we climbed.  England doesn't really have mountains, just impressively rocky hills that sometimes feel like mountains when you're climbing them.  I wish I would have remembered my camera because these phone pictures really don't do it justice, but the scenery was breathtaking.  If you're ever planning on going to England, definitely visit the Lake District.

i'm a scholar

Oh, you know me. I've just been hanging out here in Grasmere, touring Dove Cottage and working with 200-year old manuscripts and books by people like Coleridge and Wordsworth and Shelley for eight hours. Jealous? (Probably not). But it was cool. Just trust me. More details to come (possibly) -- but probably not because most of you wouldn't be that interested anyway. If you care at all, I'd be happy to tell you about it when I'm not so tired.

preston

Today we sat on the bus (a lot) and I was mad at myself (a lot) because I forgot my camera for the trip that will probably have the greatest picture-taking opportunities ever.  Dang.  So instead you get some not so lovely Instagram pictures that don't do anything justice.  But oh well.  On our way to the Lake District, we stopped in Preston.  There we had a tour from the MTC President and his wife (she's President Hinckley's daughter and the aunt of one of the girls in our group).  It was great -- even the part where a billion missionaries were staring out the window at our bus and holding up "We Love You!" signs since apparently three weeks is just long enough to make them desperate.  But I digress.

This is an obelisk at the square where the first missionaries in England, including Heber C. Kimball, would stand and preach to the crowds.  

This is the River Ribble, where thousands of converts were baptized.

Between 4,000 and 6,000 curious people gathered here on July 30, 1837 to watch missionaries perform the first baptisms in Preston.

This is 15 Wadham Road, the apartment where President Hinckley was living when he received the famous "forget yourself and go to work" letter from his father. His daughter, Sister Walker, told us the story and was very emotional about it. It was amazing.

And here is the Preston England temple. So great! After we arrived in Ambleside and checked into our hostel, half of the group (including me) headed up to Grasmere to William Wordsworth's house, Dove Cottage, where we had a candlelight dinner with his traditional family recipes. It was so great. And the Lake District is incredible. No wonder he wrote such amazing poetry here.

just another manic sunday

Just in case you're wondering why I can't remember anyone's name in my ward:

Today was a little bit crazy.  We showed up to church in time for me to play the piano for the choir to sing (who's ever heard of a choir singing prelude for ward conference?)  That went okay, so I figured everything would run smoothly.  One speaker before the choir was set to sing again, the primary president pulled us out of sacrament and told us that the primary kids were supposed to sing at the end of sacrament meeting.  This was news to everyone, since we hadn't practiced a single song and had no idea that was happening.  So the choir director was freaking out because apparently singing at ward conference is a big deal here and she said she needed us, and in the mean time we were trying to help the kids learn two songs about mothers.  We managed to get back right as the choir was standing up to sing, so we ran up there and joined in.  Then at the end of the meeting I had to play the two primary songs (which I obviously hadn't practiced before).  But overall, things were okay.

Then we got to primary, where I was supposed to do sharing time.  Sacrament meeting was long though so instead we decided to just break for classes.  The primary president said that I was doing CTR, so I told her that the week before she'd told me that I wasn't teaching a primary class anymore and instead I was doing sharing time.  She insisted that she hadn't said that (luckily the other two BYU girls here with me backed me up), but in the end I had to make up a lesson -- an hour-long lesson.  Let's just say it was a long day.  But luckily I only have two more weeks of teaching primary left!  (I feel kind of bad saying that but honestly, I need a break).  Tomorrow we're heading to the Lake District and then later in the week Scotland, so I may or may not have internet for a while.  If I do have internet, I'll blog.  If not, I'll catch up later.  Pip pip, cheerio, see ya later.

happy st. patty's

Since today was St. Patrick's Day, I obviously decided to go to Camden Market and get a burrito.  This is my happy face because I haven't had a burrito in forever.  It's a good thing we didn't take a picture after I took a bite because the only thing burrito-ish about that burrito was that it had a tortilla around it. England fails at making good burritos (and I had such high hopes, since one of the guys making it looked Asian and the other looked Indian). I just noticed that I also look Asian in this picture. Squinty eyes . . .

Then we decided to be adventurous and try a deep-fried candy bar.  The woman who served us was convinced that Americans deep-fry everything (according to her, we even deep-fry hamburgers).  We told her that we actually don't really fry very much and she was shocked.  It's a good thing that this deep-fried candy bar was just okay and I won't be craving them any time in the near future because I don't even want to know how many calories it was.  I shared it with Abby so that makes it acceptable, right?

And then just for good measure, we decided to act a little Irish and go to a pub.  It was decorated all in green and everything.  This old man really didn't want his picture taken.  I didn't want to tell him that I actually could care less whether or not he was in the picture because I was afraid I might hurt his feelings.  There are no pictures of me because I was too busy scarfing down bangers and mash to pose for a picture.

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone!

today i...

• Slept in late (through breakfast, actually)
• Rode the DLR (train) to Canary Wharf
• And ate a REAL AMERICAN MILKSHAKE.  That's right, a shake with ice cream in it instead of just milk!  Oh how I love you, Fenton's.

bookworm

During the summer, I plan to read. I love books in any form -- novels, short stories, picture books, short books, long books, new books, old books . . . You get the point.  While I've been in London, I've had the opportunity to take English classes that focus more on reading than writing, which is really refreshing.  Some of the books are "classics" -- Sense and Sensibility and A Tale of Two Cities, for example -- while others are more contemporary, like White Teeth.  Some have really touched me, like A Tale of Two Cities did. Other books are examinations of modern society that basically are really weird.

Today was sunny and beautiful and I walked to the bookstore with one of my friends and we spent about an hour and a half there, looking at all the books and talking about what we've read and we want to read.  I didn't buy anything, but it was nice to look.  And of course, I haven't been able to resist purchasing a few books here, although I've definitely limited myself to things I couldn't just walk to Barnes and Noble and purchase.  They're not really the type of books I was talking about before -- they don't tell a story or anything.  Basically they're just pretty and I love them.  I'm proud of my finds -- the first one is a Victorian flower book.  Anyone who knows me probably knows that I'm a little bit obsessed with flowers (especially John, who's so good at making sure that flowers and I cross paths often.  Sorry I can't love something cheaper!) :) I don't actually know what I'm going to do with it, but it was so pretty and it looks kind of vintage-y and I couldn't resist.  The second one is a fold-out, pop-out book of famous London landmarks (if it can actually be called a book.  I'm technically not sure what it is).  They're both interesting and I couldn't walk away without buying them.

Hopefully I can avoid book sellers from now on (especially at Camden Market, where they have entire stores dedicated to vintage books -- they're so beautiful!  Every time I walk by I imagine having shelves and shelves of old leather books . . .  I need to stop).  I can't wait for summer so I'll hopefully have a little more time to read.

"There is more treasure in books than in all the pirates' loot on Treasure Island."

--Walt Disney.  What a smart guy.