Beyond the Blue: A Research Paper Length Survey Into My Life

Yesterday, I went to sleep at 2 am. Not a perfectly brilliant idea, as I arose at 7:30 to shower and finish packing. At 9am, I was outside and on our coach, ready to embark on our 10 day tour of Northern England, Scotland, and Wales! We travelled to Stratford-upon-Avon, Shakespeare’s hometown, stopping at an English-style rest area on the way. Their travel stops have a grocery store, café, book and magazine store, and even places to buy clothing and accessories. Because everyone needs to buy a leather purse while on a road trip. Diana and I bought some fruit and I purchased a salad in the Marks & Spencer grocery. Goodness, that place is expensive!

We soon arrived in Stratford, parking beside the Avon River to make a quick trip to Holy Trinity parish to see where Shakespeare and his family are buried. After taking some photos and admiring the stained glass, we headed to walk around the town.

We ended up sitting by the river reading. I read The Hunger Games, which I literally read in about three hours, and Diana continued reading The Irresistible Revolution by the wonderful Shane Claiborne, a prominent social activist and leader, as well as a member of the New Monastic community, The Simple Way, in inner-city Philadelphia. He is one of my heroes, someone worth imitating. I should mention that he is committed to the imitation of Jesus Christ! Anyhow, I read that book a year and a half ago, and it messed me up, in a wonderfully blessed and good way. If you want to be challenged, go borrow a copy. I have one J Diana stops reading every so often to close her eyes and, I imagine, to pray. She says daily how much the book is challenging her and stretching her views and beliefs. After about 20 glorious minutes of soaking in the sunlight by the river, we went back to the coach to head to the next attraction.

In the park there were some highschool age boys playing what looked like hackeysack with a soccer ball. They were all still wearing their uniforms of slacks, button downs, and ties. Most of the girls on the trip couldn’t help but admire the novelty of ten English boys dressed like that and playing in the park. I imagine they thought they were pretty cute J. I was more enthralled with the cute doggies that were playing in the park with their owners. I miss my boyfriend terribly. I don’t even have the desire to “check out” other guys. I suppose that is partly growing up and becoming more mature, and partly because when you’ve found someone like I have, you want nothing more than to save your smiles for him, save your glances and giggles for him.

We piled back on the coach and drove about ten minutes to the farm of Mary Arden, Shakespeare’s mum. It is a work Tudor farm, with sheep, goats, a horse, falconry, pigs, chickens and ducks, and cows. The air was so nice! Being out of London and on a farm was just a godsend for the senses. There was a veggie garden that hadn’t produced anything yet, but you could tell it was planted for the season. The grass and the animals and orchards were just so nice. I miss the country of Texas. I love that in Texas you can drive thirty minutes and be in a city or the sticks of the country.

I suppose I could wax poetic all about the pleasures of being in nature and the sunlight, but you can read the previous posts for that! Just suffice it to say that all I need to be happy is sunlight, a garden, and library. Oh, and of course the people that make my life amazing! And Jesus. Goodness, I love him… There isn’t much else that makes me happier than standing (or sitting or kneeling or any body posture really) in his presence and enjoying him. I find that when I “forget” to pray, read my Bible, or just sit and be with him, that something integral is missing from my heart. It is like part of what makes me me is lying dormant and cold. Just thinking of him begin to warm it up again, purposing to be with him unfreezes the soil of my heart, and meditating and enjoying him lets the garden begin to bloom again.

We fully enjoyed the farm for a few hours, acting like kids again and taking some silly pictures, and watched a falconry display with Izzy the barn owl and Brennan the European eagle owl. Then we again piled on the coach and drove back into Stratford to unload and go to our respective hotels. Diana and I stayed in a twin room at a cute B&B called Ashgrove Inn. After being in a hostel for two months, I felt like we had checked into the Waldorf when we entered room 1. We had our own bathroom and the beds were soft! We immediately figured out where to eat, using the handy “Welcome to Stratford” binder that was filled with leaflets of local places.

We decided on a restaurant called AvonSpice, which is Indian and Bangladeshi. We called ahead to reserve, but when we arrived we saw that wasn’t exactly necessary: There was no one there! But better safe than sorry, right? I am generally ignorant of Indian food, never having ventured past curries. I think our waiter thought we were rather silly! I got a lamb tikka curry, which was incredibly mild. But still, very good! At the end of the meal, the owner brought us complimentary Bailey’s Irish Cream. Well, the funny thing is… Megan does not drink alcohol, like, ever, which I totally respect! And Diana had never had anything either. And I am giving up alcohol for Lent. However, because it was on the house, I felt it would be rude not to drink it. So I drank mine and Megan’s! Diana did what I did, and drank the whole shot at once. That was pretty funny, because it has whiskey in it, and it burns a bit going down. She didn’t expect it at all! It wasn’t too strong though, so I suppose a good first drink? (Don’t feel obligated to drink it again if you don’t want to, Di!) Anyway, the Indian place was yummy! We had to run to the Royal Shakespeare Theater because the curtains were at 7:15, and we didn’t get our bill until 7:00. But we made it!

We saw Twelfth Night, which is a hilarious comedy. I found myself comparing it to “She’s the Man” half the time, though it really isn’t the same. They modernized it a tiny bit, wearing modern costumes and having modern things like a motorized cart, telephone, and disco ball used during the performance. The funniest (and perhaps grossest?) part of the performance was when Marvolio came onto the stage wearing the “yellow stockings, cross gartered.” What was hilarious about it is that the stockings went up above the knees, then the garters were leather, and all of his privates were stuffed into a leather cup thing, while his butt was completely naked! He had to waddle around stage. The point was to make Marvolio look like a total idiot. I’d say, “Mission accomplished.” You’d have to see it to understand.

After the performance, I went back to our hotel and quickly got to bed. Oh my goodness, the lack of sleep had caught up to me! I slept well on our lovely beds.

And that, my dears, was my first day on the coach tour. Right now, I am on the coach typing on my laptop. We are headed to York, which is still two and a half hours away. This morning we had a real breakfast prepared for us! Then we went to Kenilworth Castle, which are completely lovely ruins. They’re rather reminiscent of Cair Paravel. We took tons of pictures!

Then we stopped in Coventry to see the bombed cathedral. It was very powerful to see the sanctuary, the walls of which were still standing, though the roof and everything inside had been destroyed during World War II. They still use the sanctuary on Friday afternoons. The theme of the altar is forgiveness and reconciliation. Beautiful.

There was a statue that pictures two people embracing, titled “Reconciliation.” Reconciliation for the bombs dropped upon Nagasaki and Hiroshima. I literally almost began crying as I looked upon this statue. War is an ugly thing. What we did to Japan in WWII, while it ended the war and did spare lives, was disgusting. Innocents died so others could be saved… War is a messy thing. And it hurts. It still hurts, seventy years later. I feel that the wound is still fresh. But won’t it always be? It is part of man’s nature to wage war. How does one determine the value of someone else’s life over another? How does one justify “collateral damage”? How does one justify dehumanizing someone to make the actions of war admissible? These are hard questions. There are no whites and blacks, just many strange, tinged shades of greys and grays. I long for a day when war will no longer happen, when the world will be at peace. I long for it, but will it happen? I doubt it. I hope, I pray, I yearn, that war will not be declared upon Iran. Because of people, because of love, because of the brotherhood of humanity. I don’t want people to suffer because of the fears of governments. No one should have to live in fear of a bomb being dropped on their home. For that matter, Palestinian Arabs should not have to fear having their home bulldozed to make room for Israeli settlements. Citizens of Syria should not have to flee their homes for fear of their lives. War is an ugly thing. Reconciliation. Such a beautiful word, such a beautiful idea, not yet unattainable. There is always hope.

We spent two hours in Stamford. I spent the time eating in a little café with Diana. I had vegetable soup with buttered bread, black coffee with cane sugar (which reminds of me Haiti!) and we shared four truffles. Yummy. Then we went and checked out a carnival that was in town! We decided on one ride, paid the 3 pounds, and enjoyed ourselves. After all, how many Texans can say that they rode on a carnival ride at a carny in Stamford, United Kingdom?! We then walked and sat by the river under a weeping willow. The country and towns outside of London are just fabulous. If I were to live in England, it would have to be outside of London. It is just so beautiful.

Well y’all, that’s the recap. I will be picking up the posting, since I only have less than a month until the trip is over!! Wow, the time has flown by. I’ll give you all a play-by-play of the coach tour, since that is probably the coolest thing we get to do on this trip. Pictures are down below J thank you for reading this incredibly long post. It is longer than most papers I have written for school. That is a feat in itself. If you made it to the end, congratulations, you’re awesome J

Cheers!