glittering eyes: brilliant

…And on the seventh day, she finally blogged.

I’m writing from my cozy third-floor dorm room, window opened wide to a cliché rainy morning in London. This place is utterly and absolutely brilliant. From the moment I hopped off the plane, I was filled with childlike giddiness. I felt like Santa must feel on Christmas. That crowning feeling of here it is, the moment I’ve been waiting for, the culmination of months’ worth of prayers and planning. Not even the thought of meeting the fashion capital I had loved from afar in an outfit more worn-out than my weary eyes could bring me down. It was game time.

After a long day of traveling, we arrived at Heathrow a bit past seven in the morning. With eyes and smile as wide as ever, I did my absolute best to keep the squeals and skipping to a minimum. Wouldn’t want to look like a flighty American girl, now would we? Too late. After winding through the queue at customs, we were met by two representatives from the program. We were then whisked away (hauled, really, considering the weight of my luggage) to our new home-away-from-home in vans that drove on the LEFT side of the road. Which, let me tell you, is a far stranger thing to grasp when it feels like two in the morning.

Ever since then it’s been a blur of exploring, touring, napping, photo-snapping, orienting, meeting new friends, and just soaking it all in. We live in dorms on the upper level campus at our university, Richmond. Richmond is a lovely school nestled in the Royal Borough of Kensington. Yes, you heard right. I’m living among royalty. It’s only a matter of time before my inner diva takes flight (*insert Kath pose here*). Abby and I live in a quaint two-person room on the third floor that overlooks a narrow road lined with white houses and perfectly manicured shrubbery. The inhabitants of these multimillion-pound homes casually tour about London in humble vehicles made by Ferrari and BMW. Every morning around ten o’clock, my heart melts a little as a handful of nursery children are led to school in two straight lines, clad in navy and white, walking hand-in-hand. It’s like the co-ed British version of Madeline, live and in person. The seven-year-old girl in me wishes I could throw on my navy Schoolboy blazer and hop in line.

While our neighbors across the street are wealthy families that belong in a J.Crew catalogue, our neighbors across the hall are a bunch of college boys that belong in a frat house. HA. It only took a few moments for the realization to set in: Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not at Bethel anymore. So many aspects of this place are dissimilar to all that is familiar at home in Minnesota, where I attend a small Christian university, live in the suburbs I’ve known all my life, and have full-access to my iPhone whenever and wherever I am. Being in such a new and different place is thrilling and frightening all at once. But for a girl who’s not so big on change, I can already sense that being in this fresh environment is going to grow me in ways I had never anticipated and I absolutely love it already.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, this past week has been a week of hustle and bustle, broken up by quick, hard naps. So instead of giving you a full-fledged play-by-play, for today I’ll just give you the highlight reel: my observations and favourite things thus far.

We’ve had two tours so far and my head feels like it might explode with British fun facts. First was a walking tour of Kensington that took us all around our neighborhood, and second was a bus tour of the greater area of London that took us to Westminster, Buckingham Palace, London Bridge, and the like. Our Scottish tour guide Sean is a riot. What this bald man lacks in hair he makes up for in knowledge of London. He can tell you just about anything you’d want to know about the area, including David Beckham’s favorite pub and where one might spot Will, Kate, and baby George. And other important and historical tidbits, of course.
British children take the cake for best dressed. We’re talking straight Crewcuts, folks. Mothers of Kensington, I applaud you.
Croissants, particularly those of the chocolate-filled variety, are heaven in pastry form. I had my first at the Pret a Manger near St. Michael’s Cathedral, and I’ve been dreaming of them ever since. At any given hour of the day, I can be found pondering the whereabouts of the nearest bakery. I am forever ruined.
The streets of London are a dog-eat-dog world. Those delightful red buses? Yeah, they don’t stop. Neither do the funny-looking taxis. Put your iPhones away, folks, before “Death by Texting-While-Walking” is scrawled across your gravestone.
Riding the tube makes me feel like the coolest girl in town. I want to squeeze the shoulder of the person next to me and squeal, “WE ARE RIDING THE TUBE FOR GOODNESS SAKE.” However, that would significantly decrease my self-proclaimed “cool” factor. Self-control is a virtue.
On Wednesday I went for a run in Hyde Park with Abby and two new friends from California and oh my land was it glorious. The park is filled with ponds, greenery, birds, fountains, dog-walkers, joggers, and precious families on picnics. All I could do was smile the whole way through.
Friday night we hit the River Thames for a boat cruise, dancing the night away against a stunning backdrop of London’s city lights. The rest of the regular students have begun to arrive at Richmond, so many of them were on the cruise. We made friends with a sweet and spunky freshman girl from London, Antina. To our amusement, she told us that she was jealous of our American accents. “It’s just so cool. You sound like Mean Girls, but you’re not mean!!"
Let it be known that I have not purchased a single item of clothing thus far. And if you’ve ever encountered Kensington High Street, the sweet refuge of shopaholics just two minutes away, you would agree with me that I deserve a medal.