The other day it rained, and my legs turned blue

Not a joke. They're almost back to normal.

The other day we went to the British Museum, and Danielle and I made up stories about everything we saw in there because we were not in the mood to read all of the informational plaques.

The other day we were going to ride bikes in the park, but it started raining, so instead we walked to a mosque and then ate fish and chips on the side of the road with lots and lots of tartar sauce.

The other day we walked around a special part of London and saw where Charles Darwin lived and where Virginia Woolf and other people lived and what parks they visited.

The other day we took a train to Cambridge University in Cambridge and explored the whole town, and we visited the many colleges within the university and went inside King's College church, built in the 15th and 16th centuries, which was enormous and magnificent, and we saw the stain glass windows it took them 30 years to complete.

The other day in Cambridge we went to a little cottage where artists gathered to share their ideas and read books, and then we went to another church at Clare College where we participated in Evensong and listened to a beautiful choir sing Psalms and repeat scripture.

On Wednesday night, a few of us got on a bus at 11:00 p.m. and ended up in Edinburgh, Scotland (one of my most favorite cities) at 8:00 a.m. Amount of sleep we got in that time - zero. We found a little bed and breakfast a few minutes out of town where Graham, the owner, with a thick, thick mustache and thick, thick Scottish accent, let us sleep and fed us breakfast and called me shorty and tried to sell us his expensive kilts.

That day we walked up the Royal Mile and went to Edinburgh Castle and listened to them shoot the one o'clock cannon, and we saw where they kept their prisoners and where they worshipped their God and where they buried their dogs.

Later that day we ate some good Scottish food at the Crag and Tale and explored St. Giles Church and listened to the bagpipe street musicians, and then we ventured into the catacombs beneath the city on a ghost tour in what is said to be one of the most haunted places in Great Britain, but I'm still waiting for proof.

The train ride on Friday from Edinburgh to Stirling was so beautiful that it almost kept me awake, but I fell asleep and when we got there, we walked up 246 steps to the top of the William Wallace Monument, and it was so windy on top that I could barely stand up straight, and we could see for miles and miles, and I never wanted to leave because I love wind and good views.

A bus ride and a few minutes walk later, we were in Stirling Castle with another gorgeous view taking lots of pictures and trying not to cry from the beauty.

The same day, we went to St. Andrew's, a town with that really famous golf course, and we bought some golf balls, and we climbed some rocks on the beach, and we put our feet in the freezing, freezing North Sea.

The next day we hiked up to the very top of Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh, now an inactive volcano, which compared to Salt Lake mountains looks like just a hill, but when you hike up it, it feels like a mountain, and it was so windy on top that I had to hold onto stuff so I wouldn't fly away, and we could see all of Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth and the thunderclouds rolling in, and we had to huddle under my raincoat because we were too stubborn to get off that mountain any sooner than we needed to.

I feel like I have lived five lives in the past two and a half weeks.

I stole this picture of Arthur's Seat from Google because I didn't take a picture of it myself.

So I've just been ambling around

Today we went to the National Portrait Gallery (http://www.npg.org.uk/) to see the portraits of Vanessa Bell and James Joyce and T.S. Eliot and Winston Churchill and others while our guide woman taught us all about their lives, but later they kicked us out because of a mysterious brown bag left in one of the rooms.

But we went next door to the National Gallery and saw paintings by Monet and Manet and Da Vinci and Rembrandt and Degas, but the best part was the old school bathrooms that have hand towels like those in middle school where the cloth towel just rotates around in a circle in the towel compartment.

Tonight we stopped at an Indian restaurant and ate some spicy curry and some not-so-spicy curry with yellow rice and white rice and Nan bread and other bread, and we ate a dessert of fried butter balls drenched in sweetened butter sauce with a scoop of butter-covered ice cream, and Samira, the owner, showed us a picture of his son and daughter that was in his wallet in his back pocket.

Tonight after Indian food we went to Buckingham Palace, and we watched the British guards do their hourly march while we talked about Prince Harry and how no one's allowed to take pictures of the Pentagon or the American guards will tear you apart, and we sat by the fountain looking at the empty water bottles and trash floating around in it, and listened to each others' life stories.

Yesterday we went to Westminster Abbey for mass, and we sang songs and listened to scripture, and we walked over the graves of Edward Elgar and William Walton and Sir Isaac Newton, and I was so tired my head was nodding, but the ceiling was really high, the organ pipes were gigantic, the priest's voice echoed elegantly, and they used real candles.

Last night we were getting on the tube, but we took too long, and I was the last one to get on except I was too late, and the doors started closing, so I stuck my arm out to stop the doors, except it turns out the doors refuse to open again once they've shut, so I was stuck for a couple minutes trying with all my might to pry the doors open, and James was trying to help me, but the train was about to start moving, and the doors were not opening, so finally I just wrenched my arm out because I didn't want to get gutted in the tube tunnel and give my student traveling health insurance a reason to send my body back to Salt Lake for free because that is one of the services they provide.

Yesterday we went to Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park, and it was really interesting because there were perhaps ten men on their stepladders talking about religion, arguing about Islam and Christianity and Judaism, and there was a lot of yelling, and a Kuwaiti man who was perhaps 50 years old was trying to get me to go to dinner with him, but James and Matt came and saved me from him.

Also, yesterday when we were in Hyde Park, Matt suddenly got really excited and wanted to take a picture with some guy on a bike, so I took a picture of them and then after Matt said, that was Ewan McGregor, and I was like, wwwwhhhhatttt, because I didn't even recognize him.

I'm just waiting to see Ian McKellen or Jude Law or Posh Spice.

Ewan McGregor for you...he's much more
attractive in person than in the movies.

Well I'm in London now

So that's fun.

In the past 72 hours, I have slept 11 hours. Apparently, even if I'm so tired my eyes feel like they're going to fall out of my head, it doesn't mean my brain will let me sleep. It's 6:43 a.m., Sunday morning here and 11:43 p.m., Saturday night at home and 12:43 p.m., Sunday afternoon in Thailand. Whatever clock I'm on is just all sorts of messed up.

Favorite thing about London so far: Regent's Park. The campus I'm going to school on is nestled in one corner of Regent's Park, which, it turns out, isn't just a park, but its own sovereign nation with tiny cafes everywhere, football, cricket, weddings, pedestrians and people living in the trees, and I'm pretty sure it's bigger than the Vatican and Liechtenstein put together.

There are lots of pigeons and ducks and other birds with nice, long necks who make lots of noise in the morning.

I could probably spend the whole five weeks I'm here just exploring this park, but there are perhaps thousands of parks in London, so I think I'll try and spread my time evenly among all of them.

Also, the second most common language spoken in London is apparently Bengali. Who knew?

Just drinking some pomegranate juice in celebration of finishing my last paper of the semester.

Mmm.