– Or Please Don’t Actually Touch That. It’s Historically Relevant –
This is the announcement that I am studying abroad in England. You’re welcome for the update.
I went into the British Museum today with one goal: Find the Native American Buckskin Map they have on display and…view it, I guess. I was with A and his girlfriend, L. They were looking for the Elgin Marbles and something in the African exhibit, respectively.
So, I was going to go in, not be distracted by the other displays, and….oh, is that a mummy?
The British Museum is unlike any history museum I have ever set foot in. We walked into the exhibit on ancient Greece and Rome and were staring down statues of Hadrian, the Roman emperor. Right there. No glass case or anything. I could have touched Hadrian’s face.
(I didn’t, obviously. Incidentally, Hadrian was naked in his bust, which was done in the Greek style, to portray himself as an Epic Hero – god-like.)
There is no feeling in the world quite like standing next to a marble bust of a Roman emperor…except Being In Rome, of course, and experiencing Rome’s history in it’s own country.
(I have nothing against the British Museum, but I do like to acknowledge that they took a lot of things that aren’t theirs and refuse to give them back.)
That aside leads me to my next point – the Elgin Marbles. The hall where the Elgin Marbles are held is called ‘The Parthenon,’ so named because all of the marble carvings in that hall are from the Parthenon. But before that, is the Lykia Neriod tomb. And before that is a hall of Persian stone carvings and Egyptian statues, along with the Rosetta Stone.
Let me repeat that: The Rosetta Stone. I nearly cried. I definitely stood with my mouth agape for several minutes trying to comprehend the amount of history in that one set of hallways (spoiler: I could not comprehend it).
We saw the statues from the top of the Parthenon in person. I saw those things in slideshows and now I’ve seen them in person. And I plan to see them again.
We eventually found our way to the section dedicated to North American indigenous peoples (which was a lovely exhibit), but the galleries began to close soon after. I never did see the Buckskin map.
June 6, 2014
Scotland
emigee93 bus trips, disjointed thoughts, scotland Study Abroad 0 Comments
– Or Things You Learn on the Top Level of a Double-Decker Bus –
We embarked on our 9 hour and 15 minute bus ride this morning at 9:30. It was early, windy, and the bus was, mercifully, mostly empty. Our intrepid group of six sat in the very front of the top deck. Let me tell you, the top deck of a double decker in London traffic is absolutely terrifying.
There is a surprising amount to see on the M1 north to Edinburgh. The towns are all large and small at the same time. Like, you can see the entire town from far off, but you know that, were you in town, it would feel large. At least for a little while. There are wind farms every few miles or so…at least it fells that way. Giant white windmills in rolling fields of farmland, each plot growing the same hay or wheat…it’s long stalked and green and it’s absolutely everywhere.
We drove through towns, but the only one I really remember is New Castle. The city is more eclectic than London is, if you can believe it. There is this old, old bridge over the river as you drive in, and an ancient church among more modern buildings. The roads are windy and narrow, though that’s not much different than the rest of the UK, really. The roofs are uneven and the clay chimneys look as if they might fall off at any moment. Everything is built out of red brick, except for the older bridge, which is some sort of grey stone, and the pedestrian bridge to the right of the main traffic bridge, which is a painted white metal arch.
Scotland, at first, looked like more of the same English-y country side. But, as we passed the North Sea, the ground rose up. there were a ton more sheep, and the trees became evergreens. Each farm field was ringed round with trees. To our right, the land dropped off into the sea – a brown-green cliff bordering the ever narrowing highway. Motorway, excuse me. Looking out of the window, watching the country speed by, I could see why this was a country Author’s glorified so much in Pastoral literature. Brown watered streams cut harshly through sheep grazing fields, and I was falling in love with the scenery. I know it’s not as glamorous as it looks, and that staying somewhere for two days doesn’t allow you the time to get to know the trials and tribulations of the day to day, but I could get used to Scotland.
Staying about twenty yards from Castle Rock, and an ancient castle in Edinburgh helps the situation, of course, but I’m not biased. Not really.