Ketchup/Catsup/Catch-Up

So this is one of those times when I’m going to forego an apology in order to save space to take you all on a whirlwind tour of the past two months of my life.

When I left you last, I was blissfully happy on the way from Italy to Greece…seeing as how I am now hopelessly sleep-deprived and jetlagged, on hour 22 of a 26-hour marathon trip halfway around the world, things have obviously changed a bit! Then again, I wouldn’t change a bit of it.

First off, I guess a bit of an insight into our time in Greece is in order. Our first day there was basically a series of travel catastrophes: an impossibly expensive taxi from the Athens airport to the port that necessitated a hot bus ride, which got us to the port just in time to see the ferry we’d planned to hop completely sold out, thereby calling for a five hour wait in a small waiting area populated mostly by homeless Athenians, then a nasty storm that whipped the seas into a frenzy and made for a stomach-churning two hour ferry ride that had been advertised as 45 minutes (keep in mind that this was the week after the South Korean ferry disaster, which meant that more than a few passengers on board were panicked and hysterical the entire way).

When we finally arrived in Poros, the idyllic Greek isle much more affordable than the more glamorous Mykenos or Santorini, I could’ve hugged the affable German man who turned out to be the owner of our house and helped us bring our things inside before calling a friend who owned a restaurant to prepare a huge and delicious Greek feast with extra wine to wash down the long day.

And that day was pretty much the only stress I experienced in Greece. Our three days in Poros were just as lovely as the pictures: chillier than we’d thought, but sunny, quaint, and even home to a beautiful Orthodox candlelit Easter service that we were lucky enough to witness. To sum it up, I give you this picture of the view from our pool (along with other selected shots):

Although we were reluctant to leave, we had a city to see in Athens, and two friends from Oxford to meet: my flatmate, Emily, and Rachel Kolb. The two ladies had been travelling through the Greek isles together, and since Emily was heading back to Oxford and Rachel was planning to go to Corfu with us, it made sense for us to all get together for a day and see the Parthenon to boot.

We took a morning ferry back to Athens (much less eventful this time, thank goodness), and had just dropped our luggage at the hotel and eaten breakfast when Emily and Rachel found their way in from their hostel. We stowed their stuff with ours, and then headed out into the city for some sightseeing. The first (and by many people’s accounts, the only) must-see in Athens is the Parthenon complex, so we made our way up the south slope, stopping at the various famous theaters and other features in various states of disrepair as we shed layers in the warm Greek sun.

We spent probably an hour and a half at the top, admiring the Temple of Athena and the other, smaller temples that adorn the Acropolis (literally: ‘high city’), as well as the gorgeous views of Athens. We took a ton of pictures, but this one is my favorite: the whole crew all together in front of the iconic façade of the temple to the city’s patron goddess.

We eventually peeled ourselves away, mostly due to the rumbling of stomachs ready for lunch, and then were disappointed to find that the Acropolis Museum had closed early for the Easter holiday. Joe had surprised me with a pedicure, since my feet had been complaining from all the walking and traveling, so I strolled over to the salon and enjoyed a relaxing afternoon before finding my way back for the last dinner we’d have with all the Rileys together.

The next morning was a whirlwind, as we had to get all of the Rileys minus Joe to their flight back to Madrid, as well as make our own transfer to Corfu, where we were set to meet a group of Rhodies to celebrate the last week of our break before returning to Oxford. Since it was Easter Sunday and cabs were in short supply, we’d thankfully arranged with our same drivers from the day before to return to the airport, and everyone made their flights without incident.

Our plane to Corfu was less than an hour, and spent in an airplane that was, as my father would say, a glorified crop duster.  Considering Greece all but shuts down on Easter Sunday, I was surprised that there were even flights, let alone reasonably priced plane tickets, but I was eternally grateful to have not been forced to take the alternative option, which was a 7 hour bus ride through the twisting mountain roads.

We got there before the larger group coming in from Oxford, and we prepared a lunch for them, but that was the extent of my involvement in planning anything that week (as hard as that is to believe). Reaching the end of a month of travel in which Joe and I had been responsible for every detail of the trip, from transport to lodging to currency exchange, I was all planned out and ready for some of the fresher legs to take over.

Perhaps in part due to my resolute non-interventionism, the trip to Corfu was amazingly relaxing. Although the weather wasn’t as warm as we’d hoped, and there were several rainy days, it was still a great mix of getting to catch up with everyone and hear about their various exploits over the period we’d been gone, as well as relax on the beach and explore the area around Kassiopi, the area of Corfu that our villa bordered. We even found a company that rented sailboats for half days at ridiculously cheap off-season prices, and spent four hours riding the high seas and stopping to swim, lay out, and explore caves (although they were little more than crannies in the rock, which I found a bit anticlimactic after my grand visions of high caverns).

We’d also made the decision to go to Albania for a day, since Corfu is only a 40-minute ferry ride from a major archaeological site called Butrint. As luck would have it, the day we were set to go dawned grey and rainy and stayed that way, so we trudged around the extensive ruins in a deceptive drizzle that had us all completely soaked by the time we were finished. Despite the dampening effects of the weather, we were all able to enjoy the site, which played host to Greek, Roman, and even Venetian settlements over the course of history due to its strategic position on the coast. It has been extensively excavated, and in remarkable shape; there are even a few areas where 14^th and 15^th century mosaics are still intact and on display. Although some areas are flooded, it adds an interesting dimension to the old ruins, especially with the added effect of the raindrops playing on the surface of the water. In what used to be a Roman Catholic cathedral, we stopped to take a wet dog picture:

All too soon, however, it was time to ship back out to the United Kingdom. But before we could go back to Oxford and buckle down as students, we had to make a stop in London. We met Dr. Riley at the hotel, which I hadn’t realized was across the river from Big Ben and Parliament, offering probably the most stereotypically British views one can imagine from the hotel windows:

Since Dr. Riley has never been to London, Joe and I spent the afternoon after the flight to Gatwick strolling around the Thames Walk and looking at such landmarks as the Tower of London, the Globe Theater, and the London Bridge, which for the record is not the TOWER Bridge that people always mistake it for, but rather a nondescript passage almost a kilometer down from its more beautiful cousin.

We didn’t stay out too late, however, because the next day was the *cue scary music* Tough Mudder Race we’d signed up for. Now, I would like to point out that this was under no circumstances my idea. For those of you who don’t know what a Tough Mudder is, it’s a 12 mile off-road race peppered with obstacles, including constant (you guessed it) mud. Speaking as someone who’d never run more than 6 miles consecutively, this was about as far outside my comfort zone you could go without venturing into marathon territory!

We’d made a team of 20 Scholars, along with some non-Scholar friends who’d signed up for the race. I was a late addition, having been essentially peer-pressured into it. The morning of, as we took the train from London and then trudged in the 50 degree drizzle through a muddy field even to get to the start of the race, I was cursing my friends (and Joe) who’d convinced me to sign up for the thing.

I’d like to say that I had a blast running the race, but it was absolutely miserable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I did it, but categorizing it as ‘fun’ would be a complete lie. Due to the rain and the more than 20,000 people who’d run the course over the 36 hours before we started, there was scarcely any traction, and the lines by each obstacle were longer than we’d expected, so it took us a full 4 hours to finish the whole course. We joked that our speed wasn’t a running pace, or even a jog, but a ‘slog’ that carried us slowly but surely towards the finish. Some of the obstacles were exhilarating (like the huge ice bath we had to swim through or the monkey bars over the water), while others were plain dangerous (a high climbing wall that I skipped after seeing someone fall and break their leg). In addition, I slipped going down a hill on mile 5 and re-aggravated an old back injury, meaning that I had to forego several obstacles and limp the last mile and a half, carried forward only by my pride…and Joe, who dropped back from the group to help me finish. 

All that said, I was so proud to have finished the thing! It was undoubtedly the most physically difficult thing I’ve ever done, and it was definitely a bonding experience for those of us who made it the entire 12 miles together. By the time we made it to Oxford though, I was just barely able to limp to the shower and collapse into bed before I passed out from the exhaustion…talk about an eventful first day back in the UK! Here are some pictures from the ordeal:

Now, onto Trinity Term, the last trimester in the Oxford academic year. I’d thought that not having any class would mean that I would have long, lazy days ahead of me, but for the first few weeks, man was I wrong! As I think I mentioned previously, I was co-Chairing the Rhodes Ball committee, which meant that I was practically buried in emails and meetings for the first two weeks of term, and spent almost a full 72 hours at Rhodes House, leaving only to sleep and sometimes eat. As often happens with an event of over 250 people, things just kept cropping up, and I couldn’t believe until the moment it all ended that everything would go off smoothly. Somehow, however, it did! I thought that our theme, the 1920’s, came through everything in the evening, and a good time was had by all…none more so than Laura (the other co-Chair) and I, who felt almost like we were watching a child of ours graduate from high school after all of the time and effort we’d put into the event. Obligatory photos from the evening:

Almost before I’d had a chance to finish Ball clean up and turn a draft of my Master’s thesis in to my supervisor, my sister came into town for two weeks. We’ve always been close, if very different, so it was great having her around to get an idea of my life in England and celebrate my birthday was a much needed respite from all the craziness of the past weeks. We traveled to Santander, Spain for the four days immediately around my birthday, a trip that had extra special meaning because our mother’s family was historically from the region. It was a much-needed holiday in the sun for all parties involved, and we spent most of it lazing around and walking along the seashore, punctuated by large portions of Spanish food and gelato.

Once back in Oxford, I took Laura to the local castle, various parks and meadows, my favorite restaurants/pubs/cafes, and even on an ill-fated punting voyage where we all got soaked! We went to London for a day, and toured the Tower of London before walking the Thames Walk and exploring the area around Big Ben, Parliament, and Westminster Abbey. Unfortunately, because of my thesis due date, my poor sister was also subjected to various afternoons of reading and studying in Oxford cafes. At the end of May, however, she had to head back to the US to start her summer internship, so I saw her off to the airport early one morning, and then jumped on a train myself.

Joe and two of the other Rhodies in the International Relations program, Kit and another Rachel, had decided to take a study trip together to ‘revise’ (as the Brits say) for their exam, and I took the opportunity to tag along and finish up my thesis before starting some studying of my own. Our chosen destination was the Lakes District, a verdant farming area dotted with hills, mountains, and yes, lakes, in Northwest England, and the train ride up was gorgeous, quaint, and impossibly green. That was about the only sightseeing we did, since days were devoted primarily to work, but I did take every opportunity to walk through the town center, and I took a break every night to cook dinner, which always relaxes me.

When we got back to Oxford, the work continued in earnest. I had three weeks to turn in my thesis and study for two exams that each counted for 20% of my final grade in my course, so there aren’t many fun things to report from that period. However, suffice it to say that I finished everything somehow, and my exams went off without any major suffering. After we’d finished our last exam, we were subject to ‘trashing’, the Oxford tradition of throwing champagne, confetti, and other rubbish on students who’ve completed their exams, and then I spent part of the afternoon helping Joe move things from his apartment to my room, which we’re using as a storage unit this summer since I couldn’t get out of my lease.

Later that afternoon, we headed into London, but I had no idea for what. Since Joe is spending this summer doing Army training in Fort Benning, Georgia, and I’ll be in China, we’ll be apart from June to October. He’d told me previously to clear my schedule on Friday, the last day we’d be together, and he’d said to wear a nice dress, but had given me no further details. Once we got into London, he took me to a beautiful hotel he’d reserved, and then we got ready for dinner at a beautiful little Italian restaurant. I didn’t think there needed to be any more, but he grabbed my hand and led me through the streets until we rounded a corner and saw the Lyceum, a famous old theater that was currently hosting the West End (British Broadway) version of THE LION KING! Joe knew that the Lion King was one of my favorite movies as a child, and he’d gotten tickets for us to go to one of the productions. I’ve actually never been to a theater event on that scale before, and I absolutely loved the whole production: the costumes, props, sets, and choreography all wowed me!

Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye in the morning, and Joe headed to the airport while I went back to Oxford to finish packing for the summer, organizing our ‘storage’ room, and running last minute errands around town. Then I had just enough time for a goodbye dinner with my friends before I fell into bed to catch some sleep in anticipation of the early morning wakeup for the flight home.

I only had about a week and a half in South Carolina, and it wasn’t nearly enough! I’ve always prided myself in being independent, but I’ve never been as far away for as long as I am at Oxford, and so I’ve never before appreciated being at home quite so much. The amount of time I got to spend with family and friends and the little things I miss while in England (like customer service, fried vegetables, and driving) were sweeter than I could’ve imagined. In addition, I had several joyous occasions to celebrate: first, my friend Kelly’s wedding, which my status as a bridesmaid had brought me home for in the first place, and second, my best friend Reagan’s engagement! Needless to say, the wedding weekend in Raleigh was a time of celebrating several matrimonies. The pictures from the photographer haven’t come out yet, but here are a few of my own shots:

All too soon, however, it was time to bid adieu to the land of Publix and Chick-fil-a. I started my current epic journey in Charlotte, with an overnight flight to Frankfurt. Then there was an eight-hour layover, and my current eleven-hour flight to Chengdu. Needless to say, with the time changes, fitful airport naps, and weird airline food, my body is in a state of disarray at present.

However, I’m rather excited for what’s waiting at the other end of this journey. You see, I’ve gotten the opportunity to do an internship at the New Hope Group, a large agricultural conglomerate in Chengdu. I’m not yet completely sure what the job itself will hold, but I am excited for a summer of living in China, immersing myself in the language and culture. I also know that I will have more free time to write blogs, so prepare yourselves for less sporadic and more comprehensive postings…hopefully with almost as many pictures as this post has had. Until then, be well! I for one am going to take another of those fitful naps. 

(My apologies for the delay in actually putting this up. Reliable internet access has proven to be a difficult thing to come by in Chengdu. Then again, that's another story)