"I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Football. Bloody hell."

Sir Alex Ferguson pretty much summed up the emotions and environment that I experienced this past weekend in Manchester. Basically our entire program got on a train and headed to the city of red bricks for a match and, of course, lots of other shenanigans. Even hours before the game, there were vendors, fans and every other kind of character outside, already anticipating the action. We had a talk with the COO of Manchester United and then took a very American picture in front of the field. It was like one of those times when you go to a sporting event and see 6 year olds from an afterschool program in oversized shirts, grinning with their jagged teeth while standing at ankle level with a basketball or football player - of course, we were those little jabberwocky-mouthed children...


The match itself, Man U vs. Bolton was not really that eventful, as the 1-0 score only changed in the last 10 minutes of the game. But the passion and dedication of the fans was absolutely contagious. Of course I had heard of Manchester United, but I'm sure that I am not on fan status. Surely enough though, I found myself (and the other 40 Americans) chanting along with everyone else, holding our breath when the whistle blew or a player fell, and shouting as the ref blew whistles. Based on the experiences that I've had with both live and televised matches here, I've gotten the sense that a much stronger, more genuine bond exists for Englishmen and their teams than in America, and I really do think it's a good thing.


The next day of our trip, we headed back to the stadium for a tour. This is where the rich history of Manchester United and Old Trafford really sank in. From the formation of teams for community outreach to the devastating Munich crash, there are so many moments in Manchester United's story that make it one of fearless leaders, committed athletes and international heroes.

It's always interesting to go somewhere and really have no preconceived notion of what to expect because everything makes its place in the mind quite naturally. From our absolutely ridiculous tour guide to more solemn moments of the weekend remembering those who have passed, Manchester certainly made an impression on me that was both admirable and refreshing.

Amsterdam: for the big canal

With work Monday through Friday and barely any flights out late on Friday nights, many of my travels so far have consisted of weekend getaways lasting about 40 hours. At 3:30 AM on Saturday, my friend and I set off for the airport to head to Amsterdam. After having the Peter, Bjorn and John song stuck in my head for the entire week, I was really looking forward to a new adventure. My last trip was about 5 weeks ago, so I was able to cope with a short separation from London.

We found ourselves in the center of the city by a little after 10 AM and quickly set off to fit in as many things as possible. Our hostel, St. Christopher's at the Winston, was located right in the Red Light District. There were coffeehouses on the street and the infamous windows on the side streets, but other than that it was a fairly normal place to be. The hostel was basically a hotel for the younger sort, with a bar, live music at night, and lots of art. Our room was really comfy (the bed was so much more comfortable than mine in London) and modern.

The first thing that I ate this weekend was frites. Perfection. Golden, crispy, and smothered in ketchup, the cone of fries were exactly what I had hoped they would be. We figured the best place to start was the van Gogh Museum, so we headed in that direction while simultaneously taking in the scene. Canals, cobblestone roads and bikes commanded the city, as well as pigeons. Before getting to the area where many of the museums are, we popped into a cafe for some pancakes. I chose apple and lemon, which was just as refreshing and delicious as it sounds.


Sadly, the van Gogh didn't make the cut for our final itinerary. With a massive line, 14 Euro admission, and much of the collection and famous works absent, it didn't seem too worth it. Instead, we checked out the beautiful area around the museums and spent a peaceful afternoon in Vondel Park.


After a much needed nap, we met up with some other WashU girls for
dinner at an Italian restaurant. We adventured around for the rest of
the evening, and I ended the night with some cinnamon gelato.


Sunday started out with a visit to the Anne Frank House. We waited in
line for about 30 minutes, but it was honestly one of my favorite and
most meaningful visits to a cultural institution. The experience was,
of course, sad, but also inspiring. I hope to go back, especially with
family and friends.


With a couple hours left until the airport, we randomly checked out
the Handbag Museum and the Sex Museum (the first being pretty cool and
the second being rather tacky...). We took our sensory memories back
to Brussels with some icing and rainbow sprinkle-covered waffles.
Other meals of the day included a hot dog, Australian ice cream
(crunchy almond hazelnut and vanilla = !!!) and more frites. Needless
to say, the day ended with a bottle of fresh orange strawberry and
orange juice. I probably could've fulfilled worse vices in Amsterdam,
but I definitely need a food detox...

Historical Naturalism

-The Natural History Museum.-

With the dull fact that I actually have to get started on my research paper now, it's becoming more and more difficult to make time for the simple pleasure in life that is writing on this blog...After being in London for a little over 2 months (?!?!?) I feel like I live here as opposed to being a temporary student in the area. I've gotten to know my way around and have found it to be a quite comfortable place.

True residency hasn't 100% set in though, as I still am convinced that I'm lazy and worthless if I can't find something to explore every Friday through Sunday (with some random weekly adventures speckled in as well). This past weekend, one of my flatmates and I explored the South Kensington area (only a stop away from where I work!) and ended up at the Natural History Museum. I've always found this genre to be a great solution to a rainy day (which it was) and a way to bring back the memory of so many Saturdays spent in the (beautiful?) land of Downtown Cleveland at our very own Natural History Museum.

Cheesiness aside...I've always been rather fascinated by the animals that are stationed throughout these museums, no matter how creepy it is when you really think about it. This time, though, the taxidermy wasn't doing it for me. I was captivated by the colors, textures and (dare I say it) natural beauty of the never once living elements of the museum. I took in some really inspiring things and am pretty pumped about translating that experience into my own artistic interpretation. As corny as that sounds, I could see some really cool cards and fabric coming out of the patterns and textures that I managed to capture.

-Old fossils. Very old fossils.-

-yum.-

-One of the more overwhelming things that I've ever seen (about 1,000 hummingbirds in an 8 by 10 frame).-

Anyway, despite feeling as though I don't need to take a thousand pictures in front of things that probably don't matter, it's always nice to have touristy moments. I haven't gotten my picture in front of Big Ben or at the top of the London Eye yet, but I figured a museum is a step in the right direction.