Down and Out in London

Another airplane post, this time from South Africa airlines—an airline that has thus far thoroughly impressed me with adorable coca cola cans and cleverly compact trays. Since the last post, Ani and I have had a whirlwind tour of London that began with us not finding each other at the airport. Thankfully, we had prepared for this situation and both eventually found our way to the hotel. Fun fact: either the entire UK or just our hotel isn’t too fussed about security because, despite the fact that I had no proof that I belonged in the hotel room (it being booked under Ani’s name), they let me check in and go upstairs. That evening Ani and I were knackered, as the British would say, so we contented ourselves by wandering into the nearest town area and buying tomorrow’s breakfast from a small general store—prepackaged, cheap croissants, true British cuisine. We then spent the evening watching British television which was everything we hoped for with the added bonus of hardly any commercials!

Day Two was London, baby! (to quote “Friends”). We road in on the Piccadilly Line (which ends, for those interested, at a stop called Cockfosters—Ani, myself, and a group of pubescent British soccer boys found this amusing). First we just wandered, posing with statues of important people like this man:

Unknown Man

And important UK icons like this double-decker bus:

Traditional UK Sights

Most importantly, we managed to find the Ministry of Magic via the visitor’s entrance – a lovely telephone booth that smelled vaguely of liquor and urine. I believe this is to detract Muggles.

"One badge for MoM, please!"

Then we hit Trafalgar Square. We had a (free!) visit to the National Gallery and appreciate the Christmas tree in the square, which is a gift Norway has been giving out of gratitude for UK help in WWII since 1947. Ani and I suspect that, as the years went on, the Norwegians have gotten less enthusiastic about the tree, because the one we saw was somewhat bedraggled.

Norwegian Thank You Tree

London apparently has a street light climbing problem because the entire city is covered in signs like this:

(this small a picture makes the sign unclear, it says: "Beware Anti-Climb Paint")

After a rather long discussion, Ani and I are still unclear as to how exactly the paint deters climbing. Ani’s suggestion was lead—presumably as a means of, if not preventing climbers, then at least poisoning them so that they never attempt such a feat again. Then we reached Parliament (partially under “improvements”—the upbeat British description of construction. Some of our tube lines were closed for improvements as well).

Classic London Shot

Ani and Parliament: Pointier than she expected

Kaija and Sir Oliver Cromwell

Night apparently comes quickly around this season in London because by the time Ani and I had stopped for some chips and tea and continued to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre it was quite dark. Nevertheless, that would not prevent us from getting our picture in front of the thing (we were too cheap to go in, a running theme for our time in London that, as you will see, proved fortuitous). Here great acts of theater occurred, here the Bard himself did play!

Ani and Shakespeare’s Lobe—a lesser known site ;)

We then re-crossed the Thames to Saint Paul’s Cathedral, which in addition to being FREE! was finishing up an evening service. Thus, we entered the church as the choir was singing an absolutely haunting hymn. This was probably the most majestic/magical part of our trip to London—timing was perfect because right after the service they closed up. We couldn’t take pictures inside, but hopefully the exterior gives a sense of how beautiful this was.

Saint Paul’s Cathedral

Finally we made our way back to the hotel, but not before taking this picture—an act which proved more daring than I had anticipated.

Ani in the Underground

As you can see, we were in the tube station when I took this photo. Shortly thereafter an incensed British man came onto the entire underground’s sound system irately declaring, “PLEASE do NOT take picture in the station. I repeat DO NOT TAKE PICTURES IN THE STATION. This includes the lady in the blue coat with long hair.” Avid blog readers/people with eyes will note that I, thank goodness, have neither a blue coat, nor long hair; however, I feel the entire thing to be a rather close call. Therefore, this picture should be treasured as it is, apparently, forbidden.

Today was spent largely sitting at Heathrow Airport, a drab place with low ceilings and bad lighting. Ani and I had to be out of the hotel by noon but the flight didn’t leave until 9:05 pm so you can do the math there. Unfortunately, when we went to check in our good luck failed us. First, Ani’s ticket was booked with the wrong name (or rather, bits of her name were not where they were on her passport) and airlines, of course, are very unforgiving on this subject. Thankfully, we had time, which we spent trying to call the ticket company and being utterly ripped off by the British pay phones. Although the pound is worth nearly twice the dollar, the British continue to spend it around dollar rates. For example, one might think that a sandwich that in the US would be $9 would be perhaps 5 pounds. But one would be thinking entirely wrong. That sandwich would still be 9 pounds, making your lunch a lovely $17 or so. This is also true of payphones and, as I found out to my horror, baggage.

Fun fact number two: when travelling from the UK to other places, you do not get more than one piece of checked luggage. You would like two pieces? Well, then you shall be paying—I kid you not—35 pounds for every kilo more you want to bring. You packed for the US allotted 23 kilos? Well, at Heathrow you only get 20 kilos. And your carry-on may only weigh 8 kilos. Thus it was that I found myself with a carry-on that I was not allowed to carry-on and 7 kilos more than my allotted 20. I am now a poor woman. Expect no presents from Africa, because if you can do any math at all that means that I paid 35 pounds for every kilo—that’s 245 pounds and just imagine it in dollars (I’m actually not going to because just typing this makes me a little nauseous). So, let that be a lesson to us all. There is such a thing as too much stuff and it is a very bad thing.

Ani had to buy a new ticket, but we’re hoping there’s a refund in there somewhere for her. So while London was lovely, Heathrow was hell. Let us hope that South Africa and Botswana prove to be less complicated. Although if the dubious look the check-in woman gave me when I told her that “No, I don’t have a lock for my luggage. In the US the break them open if you do that” is any indication, I may have less stuff sooner than anticipated!

New Year's Eve Alone...Sort Of

Flying alone on New Year’s Eve invokes for me an image of certain melancholy glamour. It conjures images of near empty international planes with quite, lonely people travelling on a night where they should be celebrating, reflecting as they fly through dark skies. Interestingly enough, my own experience now suggests that it is nothing like this, but rather almost exactly like any other flight. For example, during take-off (delayed due to mechanical problems, the story for both my flight from Denver to Houston and the current one to London) a small, blond-haired demon of a child decided, among other things, that confinement to seats was intolerable, possibly a crime. As we rose into the air, any romantic illusions of silently ruminating on my upcoming semester were ended by said child’s adamant screams that he was, most definitely, “going to POOP!” Either the child had a diaper or his claims were somewhat exaggerated, because we’ve been spared that accident and I am now officially on my way to (as the title of this blog suggests) Botswana.

Although I suspect this blog will largely (if not entirely) be read by people I already know, allow me to introduce myself and my travelling companion (as well as one of my best friends) Ani Reddy. As a pair, Ani and I trace our beginnings to junior high choir where we used to share a music book. However, our friendship didn’t truly take off until 10th grade when Ani asked me to be her debate partner. We then spent three years waking up at 5 AM on Saturday to carry around heavy boxes and argue with people. From this emerged the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Following graduation, Ani went to the University of Colorado in Boulder (CU) where she is now pre-med, majoring in something I can never remember but that sounds like neurosomething something science. She may wish to correct this at a later point; however, as I am the designated blogger she must live with my choices until then. I now attend Macalester College in Saint Paul, MN where I’m a double major in English and International Studies. Both juniors interested in travelling, we decided to study abroad and that brings me to where I am now: on a plane to London with a child who may or may not have to poop.

Featured here: Ani and Kaija on one of their many exciting travels.

The program itself is through CIEE, which does study abroad programs around the world. Ani and I will be directly enrolling in the University of Botswana where we will live in the undergraduate dorms (like all college dorm rooms, these are reputed to be palaces :)). We will each take four classes through the university as well as a Setswana language course. For several decades, Botswana was under British colonial rule—although largely indirectly—and as such I’ve been told that most people, particularly in the capital Gaborone where Ani and I will be, speak English and our classes will likewise be taught in English. However, Setswana is the language the proceeds English and the British for most of Botswana (although the country is largely homogenous, it, like many countries delineated by colonialism, contains a number of diversities). As such, Ani and I will be trying our hand at Setswana and faithful blog readers will be kept abreast of our progress. To quote my program director on where we’re going, “Gaborone, one of the fastest growing cities in the world, is unique in many respects and presents students with an opportunity to develop a deeper level of understanding and appreciation of what it means to be a Motswana [my interjection here: Botswana is the country, Batswana are the people as a group, Motswana is one person from Botswana] in a changing and globalizing community. Our host Institution, the University of Botswana, is home to more than 10,000 undergraduate and graduate students. Students are drawn primarily from Botswana but we also have a good number of students from the whole of Africa, the USA and other countries which make UB a truly international Campus.”

The World and Botswana

Some may be wondering why Ani (who I am meeting in London) and I are flying on New Year’s Eve. It seems like a cruel program that would demand its participants all depart on a night widely recognized as a holiday. The truth is that tickets were cheaper this way, but the more glamorous truth is that we will be spending a two day lay-over in London, regaling the locals with our well-honed British accents and knowledge of things like Shakespeare, tea, and British television.

For those interested in sending cards, packages, and money *winkwink* the location at which both Ani and I can be contacted is the conveniently brief address below:

Participant Name
c/o Batsirai Chidzodzo, CIEE
University of Botswana
Block 134-D
Office #039
Private Bag 0022
Gaborone, Botswana

A few housekeeping points: I hope to update this blog every one to two weeks; however, not knowing what life will be like in Gaborone, I make no promises. Also, it is my deep desire to avoid what I consider to be a major pitfall of blogging: the propensity to be mind numbingly dull. To let me know how I’m doing make sure you comment below!

That’s all for now, folks!