day trips out of London: a Saturday in Brighton (and a lesson in overspending)

And now, in my usual fashion, I present a series of photos taken almost one week ago now...

Last Saturday, I took a train to Brighton with some Fordham friends. It's kind of the Ocean City, NJ of England. The day got off to a rocky start--and I'm not just talking about the beach! hahahaha *ba-dum-TSHH*

Seriously, though, I was upset to discover that the £18 train tickets my friend told me about were only available through online booking, three days in advance. And unbeknownst to me, everyone else purchased their train tickets early.

It was no one's fault, really. No one knew that the train tickets would cost THAT much more at the station. But on top of getting only four hours of sleep, I felt stressed out almost all morning. I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd spent almost £30 (roughly $50) more than everyone else for a relatively short trip. The ride was only 50 minutes each way! Plus I didn't research Brighton enough to take full advantage of it once we got there. I meant to, I really did, but I ended up at a club in Camden until 1:30 AM the night before and got home closer to 2:15 AM. (In my defense, I hadn't expected to be out so late; we got lost en route.)

Moral of the story for those planning to study abroad: 1.) Sketch out a rough draft of what you want to do at your destination, 2.) Do not buy your tickets the day of, and 3.) Double-check with a train station employee to make sure you're buying the cheapest ticket possible. (I'm pretty sure I clicked the wrong ticket type and over paid.) All of this may seem like common sense--and I'm usually a huge planner when it comes to trips--but it's easy to slip up when you've just arrived in a new city.

You know what, though? I felt much better as the day went on. In uncontrollable situations, you have to remind yourself that worrying is a complete waste of energy. CLICHE BUT TRUE. Especially true when you're living long-term in another country for maybe the only time in your life. I kept telling myself that there was nothing I could do about it, and that $50 dollars isn't much in the grand scheme of things, so just focus on taking everything in, dammit! You're in England, Vaness, how often will you be in England?? Etc etc and so on and so forth.


 

First we sat on the beach, visited Brighton Pier, and then ate at a vegetarian restaurant called Food for Friends. It was super expensive, so I just split a deeeelicious dark chocolate torte with berry sauce (see above) with Sarah. She also let me finish the rest of her salad, which, I kid you not, made my morning. Sarah's a true friend. I suppose I'd call anyone a true friend so long as they fed me--the best way to Vanessa's heart is through her tum--but Sarah was also crucial in cheering me up that morning. So if you're reading this, S, hello and thanks again! muah!

After lunch we all went to grab a pint. (Well, a half pint for me, being the World's Champion Lightweight and all. I've got a title to uphold.) Then we walked over to the Royal Pavillion and browsed the Brighton Museum. At that point I decided to split off from the group in order to check out a few charity chops that I'd looked up on a friend's iPhone, as I still didn't have my UK sim card. But even though I lacked internet and text messaging, I did have a map of Brighton from the museum gift shop, so I felt fairly confident getting around on my own.

I ended up dropping a good chunk of money into an Oxfam shop right off Queen's Road. Oxfam is an international organization that raises money to fight poverty. You can see me cheesin' it up in their dressing room in the two photos above. (I bought the dress on the right!) Funnily enough, the picture right above those two isn't actually of Oxfam, but rather another little charity shop that I spotted on the way there.

Random anecdote: While walking down Queen's Road, I smiled and nodded at a homeless man on the pavement. "You're beautiful when you smile!" he said.  Not in a creepy or unsettling way--just rather sweet. And as I continued to walk past, he suddenly added, "Well, you're already beautiful enough without the smile." It was a tiny gesture, but something about his sincerity struck me. Just an unexpected blip of kindness.

Last of all, I wandered back to the beach to take more pictures since the morning's fog had finally cleared out. A peaceful end to a slightly stressful (but ultimately enjoyable!) trip.



PS. A big shoutout and thank you to Erin for letting me borrow her memory card all day! Without you, I wouldn't have these pictures to share. I'd only have...my memories. Gross.

first weekend in London

 

Last weekend I... 

Flew into London sitting in the VERY back row of my airplane, but I did have some nice chats with a twenty-something British dude who was flying back from visiting his fiancee in New York all summer.

Danced to Michael Jackson with hip young adults in a small pub near our flat. The demographic in there was maybe 28 to 35 years-old, so we didn't stay long...

Watched maybe 60 Fordham study abroad kids chug half pints as fast as they could at one in the afternoon. It was the kick-off to one of our orientation events: a pub crawl disguised as a scavenger hunt.

Ate excellent xia long bao dumplings in China Town. Looks like I'll be able to get my authentic Chinese fix in London after all.

Wandered around the touristy heart of London by myself for over two hours. There's something great—if isolating—about exploring a foreign city by yourself.

Tied for first with Aja in an intense game of limbo at the pub crawl after party (though I really should've been second place). People told me I looked like "a contortionist" and also "the exorcism of Emily Rose."

Accidentally attended an Anglican mass despite googling "Catholic churches in Kensington." When you have a lady priest and everyone keeps saying "And also with you" instead of "And with your spirit," you know somethin's up.


Tomorrow will be my one week anniversary of living in London and my fourth day of class. Honestly, my stomach feels a bit queasy now and then. A mix of homesickness and other anxieties, I guess. But that's whatcha get when you drop an introvert into completely foreign territory (geographically and socially). I'll find my bearings soon.

 - bb v out

V studies abroad and yells at rich children: my first day at London Dramatic Academy!

Ello! (Sorry. I told myself I wouldn't start with a British sort of greeting, but it just came out.)

I've been in London since Thursday, meaning I have about 500 photos to upload already. What can I say, I'm a trigger-happy new camera owner. But I'll save my post about my first weekend in London for later this week because right this second, I have other things on my mind—namely, everything I've taken away from my first day of classes at London Dramatic Academy!

Fordham's London Centre is based at Heythrop College, which is tucked away in a corner of Kensington Square (a quaint section of houses for the Richie Riches of the world). If you take a right on to Derry Street off of Kensington High Street, you'll find yourself right about here, with the unassuming Heythrop College straight ahead:

That white building down there is Heythrop. You can't see it from where you're hypothetically standing, but there's a small church right next door.

And NOW, if you turned to the block of residences on your right, here are a few more pretty things you would see...

Don't you love those branches weaving their way up that corner building? LDA scheduled us for a walking tour of Kensington, and our guide told us that we'd basically need to be blockbuster movie stars to afford the apartments in Kensington Square. You hear that, Boy on Scooter Who Is Dressed Adorably Well? You are PRIVILEGED.

~

Now on to our classes. Today starting at 9 AM, we had about two hours of Voice, two hours of Movement, lunch, and then Period Dance and Stage Combat for an hour and a half a piece. My roomie Julia and I got there at 7:15, though, because we wanted to sign up for a first-come-first-serve buddy program where LDA pairs seven of us each with a third year student at the prestigious Guildhall School of Music & Drama. They're giving us a few "tenners" so that we can take our Guildhall buddies out for drinks (seriously, drinking is a way of life over here) and basically make connections.

Our voice teacher is Simon Money, a friendly and energetic young guy who studied under the famous Patsy Rodenburg and now teaches at Guildhall. Everything he wore and used—from his hoodie to his socks to his pencil case—was orange. No comments there; you do you, Mr. Money. We started out with a hilarious-slash-frustrating warm up. It's a bit hard to explain. Simon passed a key and a pen in two different directions of the circle we were standing in. We had a very specific set of dialogue to follow, and the goal was to get the key and pen all the way around to the opposite ends without messing up our lines. It was kind of like intense whisper down the lane. Really difficult.

We had a substitute named Jess for Movement because our regular teacher, Sue Goodman, won't be in until next week. But that was fine because Jess was really cool, and she led us in a lot of fun warmups that had me actually dripping in sweat. (When I was eight years-old, I was mortified about my tendency to sweat rivers, but I figure as an actor I have to learn to not care about these things. Commitment!) I actually had the most fun in Movement because our exercises made us work with each other in a really intimate way. In one exercise, we had to guide our partner's movements simply by placing our palms on top of theirs and leading them with our own palm (their eyes were closed for a lot of the exercise). Someone said it was like traveling through a murky ocean and having to concentrate on just one distant light. It was actually kind of relaxing.

We also did an exercise where each of us and our partners "choreographed" four sets of three simple movements (each partner choreographed their own two sets) that we practiced until they all flowed together. Your first movement, for example, could literally be putting your hand on your partner's shoulder. The second movement could be taking your partner's hand and placing it on your shoulder. Etc. Once Jess set us to music, though, all of those little meaningless movements suddenly seemed to add up into a narrative. And that's when things got really exciting. (Or shall I say steamy?)

For instance, Jess asked Courtney and Declan to do their rehearsed set of movements for the class, except this time while looking directly at each other the entire time. We murmured a lot while they performed because suddenly the whole piece became very sweet and romantic. Then Jess told them to do it again, this time moving as slowly as they could bear to go, all while continuing to maintain eye contact. At that pace, the dance looked like something else altogether. When set to a slow pulsing melody, the whole thing suddenly became charged with this intense romantic energy. We told Jess that we almost felt embarrassed to watch because it seemed we were encroaching on something private.

THEN Jess had another couple—Tim and Sarah—go up and do their "dance" at the same time as Courtney and Declan. This time, Declan and Sarah were instructed to look at each other while dancing with their respective partners. Set to an upbeat, flirty background song, it now looked like Declan and Sarah were two former lovers who were trying to make each other jealous. The point was this: audiences play a big part in theater because they load the actors' behavior with meaning. Audiences look for that unwavering eye contact between actors. They read into little touches on the shoulder. It really doesn't take much. It might only take a simple movement--one that wasn't even choreographed with any intention or narrative behind it—for an audience to understand something greater about what's going on.

In period dance, we learned a circle dance, which was called something like...escargot? We were all holding hands in a circle and pranced until we resembled something like a snail. Then we learned a brawl (not sure on the spelling), which consists of more prancing, some lifts, and partner switches. Afterwards our teacher approached me and asked what kind of dance experience I've had. When I told her "zero," she said I had a gift for it, which made my day. And in stage combat we got to play with swords! But it was just an introduction, so we mostly learned the basics, like how to hold them, how to check distance between you and your partner--ya know, so you don't actually stab them--and also how to do parries one, two, three, and four.

After jumping, prancing, planking, and sword fighting on just a few hours of sleep, I am exhausted. Who knew acting school would be such a workout? It seems Mondays are our active days because that's when they piled most of our physical classes on top of each other. I'm definitely gonna sleep easy tonight.