I can’t get the song “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” out of my head. All last night the pub rocked with the song as England played France in a fierce rugby match. “Swing Low…” is apparently a rallying song for English rugby fans. Despite the best attempts of some helpful locals, I still had trouble understanding certain finer points of the game. England won, the first time they'd beaten France in the Stade de France in like 20 years (or so I was told), so everyone watching the game was ecstatic.
After the game, the jet lag that had been creeping up on me all day took over, and I lumbered back to my room falling into a deep and dreamless sleep that can only be experienced after crossing the Atlantic Ocean in a state of continual anticipation for a destination that seems all to long in coming. My first view of London was from the window of the plane: the lights of the city spread out against the pre-dawn blackness of the notoriously brisk English morning.
Today Dr. Tubb and Dr. Barkin, the two professors heading up this spring's Centre-in-London program, took the group on a whirlwind walking tour to get us acquainted with the layout of the city.
Dr. Tubb and Dr. Barkin taking us on our first tour of the city. My feet were killing me after the seven mile trek!
Seven miles later, I still feel dwarfed by the immensity of it all. I've heard more languages walking down the street here than I ever have before in one place. It’s definitely a lot to take in. I thought about ending this short introduction with some typically clichéd British term (e.g. Until next time, cheers mate!), but I’ve decided instead to simply promise that (after I’ve come to grips with the city) updates will follow in which I'm better able to fully describe the experience of living in London.