Week Eight

It feels like it has been a while since I last wrote. I took off the week before last to focus on completing two extensive essays and an exam. I spent many hours that week in the school library; reading books on the Tudors, the Stuarts, and the artist, Francis Hayman. Luckily, once those those were all finished and turned in, I had more time to return to my attempt at exploring as much of London as I possibly can.

On Tuesday, I decided to head to East London in order to walk around and explore a part of London I haven’t spent much time in. The main area I was drawn to in the East was a borough called Shoreditch. Shoreditch is known for its younger crowds, hip restaurants, and its plethora of coffee shops. This sounded a lot like Portland to me so I wanted to explore it for myself. Another main attraction of Shoreditch that drew me to it was the amount of street art. While some of it, yes, was the expected spray-painted tags, as in every other place in the world, but most of it was beautiful art. The young, wayward artists responsible for the many scenes I saw have literally turned the streets into an enchanting gallery. It is colorful, whimsical, diverse, political, and moving; consisting of almost every subject imaginable. These artists should be considered just as coveted as every other new artists attempting to present their creativity and a carefully chosen piece of themselves to the world. They just choose to use a controversial medium to get people talking. I enjoyed seeing the many different styles of each artist and was even fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to witness one of these discreet artists in action. On my way back, I decided to take the long route so that I would be able to walk past the famous egg building. It is just as tall as it appears in the photos.

Thursday, my weekly museum trip day, I went to The National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. Since I was at the Gallery for a class, the majority of my time was spent analyzing a few specific paintings. After my class was over, I was able to walk through the other parts of the museum on my own. I knew before going that the Gallery holds a handful of Van Gogh paintings; including one of my favorites. It was easy to find the room that features Van Gogh because of the large crowd surrounding one of the walls. After patiently waiting to get a clear view of these paintings, I took pictures and left in awe. I couldn’t stop smiling. I realize that saying Van Gogh is your favorite artist is a cliche and sometimes scoffed at, but I cannot help it nor would I ever want to. Looking at his paintings instills specific feelings in me and draws out my emotions. He was an average man who suffered with his mental health yet was able to appreciate the beauty in the common objects and scenes of life; all of which I relate closely to. I can’t help but be drawn to the feelings I experience when standing so close to his work.

On Saturday, I decided to head out of London and go towards the sea. A friend and I took a train to the small town of Dover. We decided on Dover because we both really wanted to walk along the White Cliffs its so famous for. Upon arriving in Dover, we soon realized that it would be a bit of a hike to reach the Cliffs and the views we were so longing to see. The beginning of this hike was a little discouraging due to the steep incline. It was so steep that we were both almost crawling on all fours. This didn’t stop us though, as we were filled with laughter and excitement. We soon realized, once we reached the top of this first incline, how windy it really was. I would like to describe how strong the wind was, but I cannot seem to find the words to do it justice. It was like standing in a giant wind turbine, or like in one of the movies where the wind is able to hold  up a person leaning into it. It luckily added to the experience, rather than taking away from it as I feared. We were constantly in disbelief at the strength of the wind and were very amused by it. There is a small trail that winds along the natural curves of the cliff-side; sometimes going quite close to the edge. The views are really spectacular and the cliffs are as white as I imagined. The white of the cliffs contrasts the black of the sand below. I could sit on a bench along the path for hours looking out at the sea crashing against these cliffs. At the end of the trail is a quaint lighthouse that has been converted into a Tea house, overlooking the English Channel. To get a break from the constant pounding of the wind and to refuel after our walk, we each got ourselves a pot of tea and a treat. I’m not sure if I have ever felt more British than when I was sitting in that floral, wallpapered room drinking tea and eating my sausage roll. Once we were finished, we headed back into the weather and trekked back towards the train. On our way back, we were able to enjoy an amazing view of the castle. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough time to go explore it in person but I am happy to have had the chance to see it; even from a distance.

I have been loving having time to walk so much and to take advantage of every opportunity I have here; even if it has caused a stress fracture in my pinky toe. I wont slow down.

Ta ta,

Kaitlin