I recoded this video on the train from Chester to Manchester Airport (see my last post for more details.

I tend to get a little rambly when I’m tired. But the experience was really that surreal!

I recorded some videos in between blogging about the experience, so I thought I would share!

The blue blob in my backpack is my snuggie. And say what you will, it helped a lot.

The nice thing about these sort of things is the bonding element. I bonded with the man next to me and two women beyond him, and the group of three grad students on my other side. The man does lighting at the BBC, the women biked in together for fun, and the students are all doing social reactions to disasters (or something like that) in the Masters program at Kings. Going in together was so exciting I could feel the adrenaline pumping.

And the play was nothing short of amazing. The acting, the set, the lighting! The actors playing Frankenstein and the monster switch off who plays which role. And ignoring what I said before, I really want to go back another night and see how the play changes from the different actors. How ridiculous am I? SO RIDICULOUS.

Still at the National Theatre!! We have just had our “Only 59 minutes to go!” celebration. I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but it is cold. I’m in my winter coat and a snuggie, but I am so envious of the group at the front of the line, in sleeping bags. I’ve also been staring longlingly at the people with little pop-up chairs. The floor is cold concrete.

The line is now stretching down to the cafe, around the corner. I can’t imagine what the people at the end of the line are thinking – there are only so many day tickets, and then only so many standing room tickets, even if there are two performances today. I’m on my laptop now, but it’s so cold that it’s hard to type. About 45 minutes ago, a guard offered us a chance to come inside and go to the bathroom, and gave us all instruction to the back entrance. How nice, right?

People having been popping off to Waterloo station for breakfast and coffee, but as I can’t eat the first and I don’t like the taste of the second, I’ve just defended two spots and hunkered down in my coat. When I got here, I was so warm (I ran here, after getting lost) that I took my coat off. Not it’s zipped up all the way. Brrrrrrr.

I am currently sitting outside the National Theatre on the Southbank of the Thames. For those of you Americans who don’t check the timestamp on these posts, it is now 5:32 AM in Londontown. Well, it is now while I write.

I recorded a video explaining this, but I’m posting on my smartphone, so in short – Danny Doyle directed a production of Frankenstein and it is WILDLY POPULAR. Tickets for the whole run have been sold out forever. But the National has a day ticket scheme. They save cheap tickets for the day of the performance and sell them when the box office opens at 9:30. But this show is so popular that people line up from 4 in the morning or earlier to get tickets. I got here just past 5 and there are about 15 people in line ahead of me. Each person can buy 2 tickets, but there is a matinee performance today so I should be fine. Which is good, because I am not getting up at 4 AM again for this play.

I’ve already called home so I’ll try to keep liveblogging if anything interesting happens. But I already got lost on the way here, and no one attacked me, so I think I’m in for a fairly slow morning.

Oooh look! The sun is rising!

I decided I wanted to go to Cardiff. I was fed up trying to wait around and make it work with friends, and it gets complicated because I have to plan my time around shabbos and most of my American friends here interested in traveling aren’t Jewish.

So I looked up the Rabbi and JSoc in Cardiff and started emailing around. Rabbi Wollenberg, a Chabad rabbi for the Orthodox shul (there is also a Reform one, but I never did see it) got back to me and said he could work out meals, and I said I would stay at a hostel or something if necessary, so Thursday evening he got back to me and said it could work out!

It was bit late notice, and I had a midterm on Tuesday, but again this is Cardiff and I really, really, really wanted to go back. Leora and I went during our whirlwind tour this summer, and it was such a nice city, and there were a few things we didn’t manage to do.

So he booked me into a guesthouse near the shul for Friday night, and I started looking into buying tickets on short notice. Anyone who knows traveling in the UK will tell you, book early for good prices. I wanted to try for a train both ways, but going to Cardiff Friday morning was £44 and up to something like £150. A bus took longer and was more uncomfortable (and less cool) but I found one for £14. I could have taken a bus back as well for something like £8, but I found a train for £11.50 from Cardiff to London, and I splurged for the way back. Then I packed. Quickly.

My bus left at 8am, so I woke up at 5:45, showered and ran out the door. It was a National Express bus, so it was a ten-minute walk from the tube station. Leora and I have experience on that route, remember? We took those ten minutes at a run, that time. I was running a little late, but I made the bus. I tried to study, and I dozed for about an hour out of the ride, and I took about a dozen pictures of Newport when we passed through it to Cardiff.

I wasn’t sure what to do in Cardiff at first, so I went to the Tourist Information Center (TIC) in town to find out some information I wanted. Last time we were there, Leora and I wanted to visit these two castles – Castell Coch and Caerphilly Castle, but we didn’t have time. I grabbed the brochures, and got directions to the National Museum Wales. It was a nice museum, and took me a bit longer than expected to leave, so I was late to my guesthouse. I only showed up about 20 minutes before shabbos, took the fastest shower ever, and then took directions from the shul to the guesthouse.

Now, I’m going to put in a video, but some of my pronunciation sounds really wrong in the playback. The guesthouse was on Ty Gwyn Road, pronounced “TEE GWEEN” road. I took the video Sunday morning, after shabbos. In the video, it sounds like I mispronounce it and then misspell it. I have to assume it was the audio quality, because I didn’t misremember it at the time! Really!

Friday night was really nice, they were having a shul-wide dinner in the hall, so I seated with a local family and we chatted. The Rabbi and Rebbetzin walked me back to the guesthouse, which was incredibly nice of them. I woke up a little late the next day, but I made it to shul and I went to the Rabbi’s for lunch, with a bunch of other people in the shul. It was really nice, and I stayed until after shabbos and got a ride back to the guesthouse from Laura.

She offered to take me around Cardiff on Sunday afternoon with her husband, as they normal around a bit. She said if I met her in shul on Sunday morning, her husband could drive me into town and I could meet them later. So I went to shul in the morning (hence these videos).

In town I wandered through some arcades and walked to the bay, and then I came back and we went to Llandaff North and Castell Coch and I got to hear lots of stories. It’s always nicer to hear about places from people who actually live there. Plus, as Leora and Dasi can both attest, I love Cardiff, so it was great to have someone to chat with. 😀

As there is a chance now that some people might read this blog who have not had an opportunity to meet me, either in real life or virtually, I though I should put up a mild disclaimer about my excessive use of italics and capitalization and occasionally abbreviations and extreme abuse of parentheses. And overly-long sentences.

I made a very deliberate choice a few years ago in my blogging past to write out my posts the way I speak, on the most part. (And yes, for the curious, this is not my first blog. I imagine it will not be my last.) As everyone knows, speaking is not always grammatically correct, and the overly long sentences clearly reflect that, as do the sometimes fractured posts.

For those who have met me and have conversed with me at length, you know about my tendency to stress words, the use my hands to emphasize points, to speak loudly and often enthusiastically. To sometimes insert random factoids into a much longer narrative, to supplement my stories and share knowledge, mostly. The italics, the capitalizations, the parentheses are all reflections of that. I have been told that reading my posts is like listening to me tell stories, and people can sometimes “hear” my voice.

This is exactly the effect I am trying to achieve.

Rest assured, I can write concisely. I can write to a thesis, or a main point. I can even tone down the excessive abuse of keyboard options and still get my point across. But why would I? That’s not what the blog is about at all. The blog is trying to recapture my experiences abroad as they really are, although I admit that I might not post about boring days, or bad ones.

This term I am taking a class in creative writing. I have been told by my classmates that I have a very distinctive voice, which they could track from my first story, which was a light chick-lit romantic comedy, to my second piece which is travel writing about Cardiff. When I write for class I tone down my conversational style considerably, but it is still there. And I like it, even if it is not professional. I’m certainly trying to develop my own tone and style here, and I will use the tools available to me in the limited medium of words alone to do so. Yes, blogs can be cross-medium heavy. I’ve made a Vimeo account so I can start really sharing my videos, and I’m still playing around with photo options. But I enjoy the written word most, and in the time it takes to write five posts I can manage to upload one video and I might have figured out how to cross-post it to this blog. So most of my posts will be word-oriented rather than picture-heavy.

Consider this post a disclaimer, I suppose. This blog is not the place to judge my traditional writing ability. There are other places where you can see my ability to break down an argument or write on topic. Here is a place for me to develop my writerly voice, as it were, and also share my experiences abroad. Hopefully in a more amusing way.

And for those of you who think this post used a particular number of especially literary words, know that I do that when speaking as well. I have been known to liberally apply, “thusly,” when I am arguing a point in ernest. I’m sure my roommates could back me up on that one.

I mentioned at some point on this blog that I am a media studies major. For those that don’t really get it – and I don’t blame you, it’s not a well-known major – I like to compare it to an English/Literature major. Like a lit. student, who studies the history, creation and analysis of literature, I study the history, creation and analysis of every other medium, at least in theory. In reality, at Queens College, I mostly study film and television, with a bit of political news coverage and some radio if I choose.

Books, and comic books, which are both mediums I am equally passionate about, are not considered part of the major.

Anyway, In the United Kingdom, I am taking a British Film course. Every single film we have watched so far is a film I have neither seen nor heard of, and my notes are filled with underlined titles of movies and scribbled notes in the margins of recommendations from my professors. There are entire genres of films here – like films on the Troubles – that simply don’t exist elsewhere.

Dasi and I tried to test out LOVEFiLM, the British version of Netflix, a while ago, and accidentally bought a month. In about 20 minutes, I compiled a list of films to watch, a few from my class, but most from searching the BFI top 100, and looking into some Welsh films.

Last Week I watched Fish Tank, a British art film about a girl living on a council estate (or public housing, for the Americans). I’m not sure why the film was considered an Art Film, unless it was the low budget. It felt very much like a slice-of-life film, although I see why it wouldn’t have made a big impact in America. I can’t imagine the MPAA approving of a 15-year-old sleeping with her mother’s boyfriend. Who happens to be married to someone else. Let’s just say that it is not a happy film, although the ending is hopeful.

I just finished watching The Red Shoes, which is considered a classic film internationally. And I can see why. Interestingly enough, the first time I heard of it was not in a film context, but rather in a ballet manga from 1960s Japan. The film is referenced as a classic ballet film, and it was only later that I learned it was valued for its cinematic elements as well. And it deserves it. Very classic pacing and plot (it was released in 1948) the directors chose to go with dancers who can act, rather than actors who could dance, and it is lovely to watch, even though dancing doesn’t take up the whole film. The way the H.C. Anderson story was woven into the plot is just spectacular. Definitely a recommended film, although I have no idea if anyone reading this would actually enjoy it. (It’s not Doctor Who, how about that?)

I haven’t seen Black Swan, although I suppose comparison is inevitable. I’ll report back once I have.

I have to admit that living in London as I am, the opening scenes in Covent Garden were especially fun. Notice that in Britain, you have to buy programmes to shows – no free playbills here. When the usher offered them during the opening ballet, I laughed out loud.

Everyone knows the standard England-English vs. American-English. “Pants” vs. “trousers.” “Elevator” vs. “lift.” You know.

The absolute funniest one was has to be crèche.

Because to me, as an Ameirican, a crèche is a Christian nativity scene, Mary holding baby Jesus with Joseph in the background and maybe old men and sheep if you’re feeling particularly detailed.

In the United Kingdom, a crèche is day-care service. You know, for little kids.

So without explanations, confusing contexts with that term can be inadvertently HILARIOUS.

So, there are three types of theatre I go to, here in Londontown.

First, there are shows I see for my Theatre in London class. Those are about once a week (give-or-take) and tend to be things I never have never seen otherwise.

So far, I’ve seen Clybourne Park, The Children’s Hour, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, and In a Forest, Dark and Deep. Tomorrow I am going to see War Horse, which everyone I’ve spoken to has recommended.

The Children’s Hour had Elisabeth Moss and Kiera Knightly. In a Forest Dark and Deep had Matthew Fox. You know, from Lost. The TV show. He was excellent.

So, a play a week. Cool plays, enjoyable plays, mostly, although I was a little disappointed in Umbrellas. I don’t always talk about them, because again, they happen EVERY WEEK. I do think about them, and I should probably post more about them.

The second category is plays that I go out and pursue by myself. There are a few plays I want to see – Blood Bothers, for one, as I really enjoyed it the first time – and I’ve already been to one. The aforementioned Season’s Greetings, for Catherine Tate. I have already bought tickets for Much Ado About Nothing, because they were selling FAST. Again, Catherine Tate. And David Tennant. I fully intend to keep my eyes peeled for more plays to see, but I’m already seeing plenty for the class, obviously, so the call isn’t necessarily there.

Oh, right. Dasi and I are considering going to The Holy Rosenbergs, which is about the Jewish community in North London. I’ve heard mixed things, but I can get £12 tickets, which is pretty cheap for a night out.

Then there is the last category, which I completely forgot about until yesterday!

See, when I paid for this study abroad program, I was told that part of the tuition would cover events and things, but they were never very clear about what exactly, probably because they didn’t know yet. Which is reasonable. Theatre is fickle.

Well, first of all, I’m going to see The Lion King, for free (for all intents and purposes at this point.) I’ve seen it before, but you know what? SO EXCITED.

More importantly, I’ve just gotten back from seeing a play I had never heard of, until I got the email that we could pick up tickets for it at the International Students Office. It’s called The Woman in Black and it has a reputation as a pretty scary play.

A well-deserved reputation.

It’s based on a book, and I’m pretty sure the play was adapted with a framing device, which was incredibly clever. An elderly man hires an actor/acting coach to teach him public speaking, so he (the old man’s name is Arthur Kipps) can tell a personal ghost story of his past to his friends and family. As the young actor tries to teach Kipps how to act, they end up transforming the dry read-through into a two-man play with minimal props, and an unseen lighting and sound mixer.

The actor plays the role of Young Kipps in their play, and the real Kipps plays everyone else.

It is amazing. I think the framing device really sold it. It is also so scary I screamed multiple times, and I was nowhere near alone. Dasi couldn’t come in the end, so I was sitting by myself clutching the programme for the whole second act, whispering “no, no, no” every time the actor as Young Kipps did something stupid like go through the previously locked door or something like that.

So scary. But it was wonderful, and it was the first thing that I got to do through the London Met. Study Abroad Office, so I’m hoping we get more events. There is a chance that we might be able to arrange our own events if we get enough people together. Peter and I are thinking about asking for a tour of the BBC studios. Why not?