Spring Break
England - its glories in the first week
Spires of learning
Samantha Sigmon
Issue date: 10/8/08 Section: Lifestyles
You can say "I'm going to Oxford this fall" 10,000 times without it actually soaking in enough substance to hit the depths of reality. The fact that I would be traveling alone on a 24-hour journey through some of the largest airports across the world to a completely different country for the first time to go to one of the best schools in the world for a semester was only a conversation piece.
The day before I left, exactly a week ago, boasting finally sunk down to reality. All day, I was trying to say goodbye without sniveling and shaking uncontrollably. For a moment, I was scared in the Tulsa airport and gulped down tears of uncertainty at leaving my home for a good, long while. I was positive this fiasco would be an assurance that I am incapable of living up to the potential I have created for myself.
Once on the plane, I was up all night trying to make sense of my future non-stop from O'Hare to Heathrow. It was almost morning and I had my first legal drink of the rest of my life on the plane in two personal plastic bottles of red wine. We were passing right over the Northwestern English coast and coming right into London.
Central London was sprawled out beneath us, glistening between the twinkling night lights and the pink morning, right over Buckingham Palace. The new day and the waning night with the moon balancing on the tip of the wing greeting sunrise London took my breath away. I wanted to poke the guy to my side to share the moment, but he was asleep and didn't speak English. No one else noticed the magical frame I had just witnessed. Awe pushed aside fear for good at this moment.
I am staying with Dan, his girlfriend Laura and their three boys all under the age of three on Marlborough Lane, a 20 minute drive from Cambridge. Sam, Dan's brother, is exactly my age. Inside Dan's house, I am led past 50 painted stars on the walls marking the capitals and years states became part of the U.S. to the Razorback room. The walls are all painted red and every statistic for the last two years is written on the walls. This just reiterates the fact that Dan and Sam's father is from America.
The day before I left, exactly a week ago, boasting finally sunk down to reality. All day, I was trying to say goodbye without sniveling and shaking uncontrollably. For a moment, I was scared in the Tulsa airport and gulped down tears of uncertainty at leaving my home for a good, long while. I was positive this fiasco would be an assurance that I am incapable of living up to the potential I have created for myself.
Once on the plane, I was up all night trying to make sense of my future non-stop from O'Hare to Heathrow. It was almost morning and I had my first legal drink of the rest of my life on the plane in two personal plastic bottles of red wine. We were passing right over the Northwestern English coast and coming right into London.
Central London was sprawled out beneath us, glistening between the twinkling night lights and the pink morning, right over Buckingham Palace. The new day and the waning night with the moon balancing on the tip of the wing greeting sunrise London took my breath away. I wanted to poke the guy to my side to share the moment, but he was asleep and didn't speak English. No one else noticed the magical frame I had just witnessed. Awe pushed aside fear for good at this moment.
I am staying with Dan, his girlfriend Laura and their three boys all under the age of three on Marlborough Lane, a 20 minute drive from Cambridge. Sam, Dan's brother, is exactly my age. Inside Dan's house, I am led past 50 painted stars on the walls marking the capitals and years states became part of the U.S. to the Razorback room. The walls are all painted red and every statistic for the last two years is written on the walls. This just reiterates the fact that Dan and Sam's father is from America.
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