On galleries

Cole: "The Arcadian or Pastoral State"

Recently, I went to the Milwaukee Art Museum to check out its (AMAZING!!) temporary exhibition "Nature and the American Vision." The collection focuses on the Hudson River School and features several early paintings of Niagara Falls, upstate New York, and - my favorite - Thomas Cole's 5-part series, The Course of an Empire. Highly recommended.

Anyways, since the museum's completed renovation this past November, I've acquired a much deeper appreciation for both gallery-visiting in general and the museum itself. On our breakneck joyride around Europe's greatest galleries, my friends and I often hurried from one famous painting/sculpture/building to another, in a frantic effort to see as many masterpieces as possible. Given the time restraints, I don't necessarily regret such a decision, yet I find myself wistfully remembering what it was like to stand in the presence of such workmanship. I wish I could have taken in more of each piece.

I returned to Milwaukee with a bit of a cynical attitude toward American art collections (and to be fair, it is hard to top the decadent concentration of art in places like the Vatican Museums or the Louvre); however, in the past several months, I've had the happy realization that this mindset wasn't fully justified, especially in Milwaukee. Weaving between the temporary exhibit and the permanent collection, I was struck by an awareness of the richness of every single piece. Of course, you have your mediocre ones, or those that fail to capture your interest; for every one of those, though, there is another that is quite good.

In the end, it actually began to be overwhelming. It made me realize that I have played the tourist even at my own, "home" art museum. Rushing from one painting to another, blazing through entire rooms in 3 minutes, I never stopped to cultivate a meaningful encounter with the pieces.

While I love the diverse gallery opportunities presented by large art museums, the sheer volume of art they offer can be dangerous. Living out one of the classic American stereotypes, we can easily fall into the trap of valuing quantity over quality. In focusing on the whole, we take each particular piece for granted.

The reality is that you could easily spend several hours - a whole visit - on just a room or two. It's an experiment I would like to try the next time I go. Instead of doing what I usually do - make value judgments based on my taste/mood, I want to pay closer attention to what the artist is telling me. To borrow a page from Shakespeare and his strategically-placed plays-within-plays, I'm learning that there needs to be a sense of humility, a willingness for art to change you. It isn't there just to look pretty (well, unless you're fond of Oscar Wilde & co. But I think I'd challenge even that).

Never thought Joyce would make the blog

But he just did. This passage comes from "An Encounter" in Dubliners, and since the last time I left the 90-mile radius around Milwaukee was this past summer, and every moment of my spare time is spent on homework, it hit home. I've been sitting in one place for far too long. The wanderlust is strong with this one.

But when the restraining influence of the school was at a distance I began to hunger again for wild sensations, for the escape which those chronicles of disorder alone seemed to offer me. The mimic warfare of the evening became at last as wearisome to me as the routine of school in the morning because I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

One night's homework
[weeping]

Insta-Europe

Missing all the running around. It's starting to feel like a faraway dream.

Brecon Cathedral, Wales

Old City, Geneva

Eiffel Tower

Tours Cathedral

Montefioralle, Tuscany

Venice

Agora & Acropolis, Athens

Pompeii with Vesuvius in the background

Forum Romanum, Rome

Milwaukee

So I've been back in the States for 5 days. Feeling restless. Feeling the culture shock.

• Instead of walking the mile and a half to the grocery store, we drive it.
• I can't shake the sense that I'm a visitor in my home (but not because my family hasn't been welcoming).
• The oldest building around here was built in the mid-19th century.
• They drink the beer cold.
• You could fit a neighborhood inside Target.
• Almost everyone I know is a white, middle class American born on this continent.
• Everybody has so much stuff. America is unbelievably wealthy.
• My bedroom is larger than some of my British friends' living rooms.

Everything looks the same as it always was, yet completely different. Maybe as the months go by, I'll feel fully at home here again. But something tells me this is what long-term traveling does to you...you leave a part of yourself behind, and it's replaced with all the perspective, values, and relationships you picked up while you were away. You see everything (and everyone) with outside eyes. Still figuring out what to make of it. But I think it's good.

What makes me happy, though, is meeting up with my best friends. Some of us talked every day, and others, barely at all. But regardless of that, each reunion has been as if nothing has changed. Despite how bewildering it kind of is to be back, these people remind me why I'm committed to being here. Especially with church. Having met so many young Reformed people in the UK who feel called to build the church in their various home countries, it makes me appreciate my own American friends all the more. It's making me see that we are the future of the church here. I'm feeling the weight of our responsibility. Responsibility is good. Hard, overwhelming, dangerous, yes. But also a blessing from God. He is using us to build His church.

So as sad as I am to no longer be in the UK, I am satisfied in knowing that I am exactly where God wants me to be. Faith comes in where His will seems scary or lonely or difficult. It's always worth it.

Besides, living back in the States means I get to wake up and to see this every morning:

advinkdsvjkdsvhvhdsjkvndskjvdshhfdyfjsdvnsd I MISSED MY ROOM SOO MUCH.

Coming to an end

It seems like yesterday I was writing this post. Now, next week I'll be back home running around in Milwaukee. Where did the time go?


At the Roman Baths....in Bath

So far, 2015 has been very good to me. I've seen some of the most beautiful and important places in the world, lived in an amazing community of godly people, and most importantly, learned to trust God in ways I never understood before. Being here has felt like living in Palace Beautiful in Pilgrim's Progress. Coming over to England, I was most excited to see all the places I'd only come across in books. Leaving for America, I'm most reluctant to leave behind all the people I've come to love. All of the effort I've spent on getting into college, being accepted into the honors program, and studying abroad would still all be worth it if its only impact on my life was to bring me to the people here.


Wales is the most underrated country...ever

Being on your own in a country an ocean away from everybody you know for half a school year grows you up in a lot of ways you were blind to previously. And then running around a foreign continent where people don't always speak your language and you come close to being homeless several times grows you up even more. People my age always complain about how adulthood sucks, but being able to fend for yourself is one of the most satisfying things in life. I've learned that you need less than you think, there is nothing better than going to church with your best friends, and all those domestic skills my mom taught me are killer things to know.



Standing in the ruins of Coventry Cathedral

I can confidently say that the last four months have been the happiest of my life. I'm not ready to go back.

 

But God has other plans. He wants me to be a good steward of the blessings He has given me here and make a difference in my life back home. He has taught me to rely on Him in everything, down to where my next meal is coming from; it's getting me ready for what is going to be a year of a lot of uncertainty (including that wild safari of grad school applications). He's shown me both how important it is to have a new generation of strong leaders in the church, and also how awesome it is to meet fellow hip, radtacular young people who are defined by that enthusiasm.

I studied some pretty interesting church fathers and wrote a few papers, but here's the most relevant thing I've learned this semester: Money disappears, charm is shallow, and accomplishments are relative. The truly good life is the one spent for God's kingdom.

Wherever I end up, whether it's in Milwaukee or some far-away grad school, still writing here or something longer, teaching either my own or someone else's kids, I want to remember the words of Basil of Caesarea: "As long as we draw breath, we have the responsibility of leaving nothing undone for the edification of the churches of Christ."

Thank you, Cambridge.

On being away from home

When our trip around Europe was winding down, I found myself missing Cambridge like I did Wisconsin when I first arrived here. That was an odd realization.  It's become mine. It's comfortable instead of being new or "foreign." I have relationships which have become strong enough to tie a part of myself here forever. In just three months, this place has become home. My friend Hilary has told me about this being a phenomenon that happens with her friends here. When I told her how much I missed church, she exclaimed, "You see? It's happening! A piece of your heart is in Cambridge now, and you'll leave it here when you go back home." Darnit.

Something I've learned, being away from my homeland:

I've always been in the position of hostess. I think I inherited this from my parents. They were constantly having people over for Bible studies, church parties, Superbowl shindigs, etc. In highschool, most of the times my friends and I would hang out, it would be at my place. When college came around, our house, being strategically-located 10 minutes from campus, became a revolving door of friends coming by to spend the night, have bonfires, jam sessions, movie nights, and even just sit at the kitchen table and get advice from my mom. And as the lone commuter in the group, I regularly gave people rides or made them cookies or provided the transportation to whatever place we wanted to visit together. As crazy as that would sometimes be, I loved it. Helping others in such a tangible way was always deeply satisfying.

Before this starts looking like a bragfest, let me say that I'm coming to think a good part of this was probably a control issue. I liked being in a stable enough position to give and not need to receive. It's nice to not feel like you're in somebody's debt.

But now, I'm the one who's receiving rides to places, appreciating the home-cooked meals of church friends, being reminded of my neediness day after day. It's very humbling. Having seen the other side of hospitality, I'm inspired by the examples set before me in my church here in Cambridge. It isn't easy to walk into an established church in a different country where you know nobody. But right away, people welcomed me, befriended me, and invited me into their homes. When I'm back in the States, I want to always remember that feeling when I see somebody new at church.

In the meantime, though, I'm seeing that my dependency on others here is a picture of my greater dependency on God. Just as I am in the position of accepting help from friends (rather than giving it), so am I completely needy of God's grace in every aspect of my life. He daily provides both my physical sustenance and perfects the good work He once began in me. On my own, I can't draw my own breath, and sure as heck can't beat to death the sin still plaguing me. But He does.

So rather than letting myself feel (proudly) uncomfortable in my current state of comparative helplessness, I want to see God's love through it instead. I think that's a big reason why Cambridge has become a second home so quickly - the people here have demonstrated, daily, the love of God toward one another.

That trip to Europe

Gosh, that was so dumb. So speaketh the much-older-feeling and wiser version of yours-truly. Spend nearly two weeks visiting a different city almost every day? Sounds great on paper. But then you have to actually do it.

I think these two photos from Paris accurately sum up the situation:

 

#1 -  The brave face we put on for FB: "OOH LOOK WE ARE IN PARIS IN THE RAIN AND ITS SO PRETTY AND ROMANTIC #BLESSED!!!!"

#2 - How we actually felt: "OH SWEET SWEET CAMBRIDGE, WITH YOUR MULTIPLE MEALS A DAY AND GENERALLY-NOT-RAINY-WEATHER, TAKE ME BACK!

 

Several things I've learned:

1. You never spend as little money as you anticipate.
2. You can plan as thoroughly as possible, but you cannot control the weather.
3. For the love of all things sane, don't pack sight-seeing excursions in like sardines. They need to breathe.

That said, we loved Europe. Not everyone gets to do this kind of thing, and we really did try to appreciate the opportunity to see everything. Europe is beautiful. I crossed several things off my bucket list. And when we did eat, the food was amazing. Some favorite memories:

 

Standing inside the art tunnel otherwise known as the Sistine Chapel with guards periodically bellowing out "NO PHOTO!"

 

On an unrelated note, the selfie camera on the iPhone is really interesting.

 

Sitting on top of the Areopagus facing the Acropolis, reading Acts 17. When Paul said "The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man," he was looking straight at the Parthenon.

 

Seeing the cross inside the Colosseum. That really struck me. Our Christian forefathers' minds would have been blown to see that.

 

 

Climbing Mt. Vesuvius. I've been wanting to do that since I was probably 11.

 

 

Accidentally finding Beatrice Portinari's tomb in Florence. The church in which it is located is also the site where Dante supposedly first met her. I felt like a pilgrim. At the foot of the tomb are flowers and a basket of letters from girls around the world written to Beatrice. Some describe their own love stories and others talk about Dante's love for her. My heart melted a little bit.

Joyfully Amor seemed to me to hold
my heart in his hand, and held in his arms
my lady wrapped in a cloth sleeping.
Then he woke her, and that burning heart
he fed to her reverently, she fearing,
afterwards he went not to be seen weeping.
(La Vita Nuova, III)

Just had to throw that in.

 

Geneva. Things got intense when I almost started crying inside Calvin's church.  This earns me Die Hard Calvinist status, right?

 

Also managed to photograph the entirety of the Reformation Wall. Yeah, I was a little over-zealous. Yolo.

 

I am not usually a coffee drinker, but I had the best "café amaretto" in Paris. Coffee, amaretto syrup, whipped cream, and slivered almonds. I will probably have dreams about this in the future.

 

 

Good times, good times. The rainy memories are already fading.



Spring break, part 1

Come next Monday, we are released for four weeks to run wildly around the continent. Naturally, I've spent the last month organizing this trip in painful detail. Because that's how I deal with excitement. Ha. Anyways, here's the agenda:

• TUESDAY, MARCH 24: Fly into Milan. Spend the day checking out the Duomo, the Last Supper, and possibly the ruins of Constantine's palace (where he signed the Edict of Milan in 312). A friend from church recommended a life-changing calzone place, so I'll hunt that down too. Then, at night, we hop on the train to Rome.
• WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25: Vatican festivities. Our hostel is near the train station, so we'll walk past Keats' House/Spanish Steps and the Castel Sant'Angelo on our way to the Vatican in the morning. Once there, it'll be the standard St. Peter's, Museums, and Sistine Chapel till they close at 6. At night we'll take the train to the suburb of Ciampino where we'll stay the night, because it's close to the airport where we have an early flight in the morning.
• THURSDAY, MARCH 26: Day in Athens. Yup, a day. I found ridiculously cheap ($30) tickets which will allow us to arrive in the morning and leave at night. After talking to friends who were just there, it sounds like most of what there is to see is all near the Acropolis, so you don't need more than a day or two. Anyways, I'm guessing we'll have about 6-7 hours to see the Parthenon/Acropolis, Agora, and Mars Hill. Probably won't get to the museums, but that's ok.
• FRIDAY, MARCH 27: Roman ruins. We'll start outside the Domus Aurea and make our way around the southern ruins, from the Coliseum towards the Palatine Hill and Circus Maximus. Then we'll head to the Forum and have a picnic lunch there if that's allowed. Then it'll be Trajan's Markets, the Campo de Fiori, and Pantheon. At night, we'll toss our coins into the Trevi Fountain and get on a train to Naples.
• SATURDAY, MARCH 28: Pompeii. 30-min train to the slopes of Vesuvius, where we'll hike to the caldera. Then we'll get back on the train and go a little further south to the ruins of Pompeii, and revel in all the Roman nerdiness. Everything closes around 6, so we'll head back to Naples to explore and grab some authentic Neapolitan pizza.
• SUNDAY, MARCH 29: Train to Florence. I'm guessing we'll arrive around 11am, so we'll most likely miss church services, but I have some sermons on my ipod which will ease my guilt. Once we're there, we'll picnic in the Boboli Gardens, which have an amazing view of the city, and visit the Duomo. I'm a little nervous about crowds, as it's Palm Sunday and thus the beginning of Holy Week, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Other than the cathedral, I'm guessing we'll just wander around the city.
• MONDAY, MARCH 30: Hiking in Tuscany. After much research and breaking my habit of biannual Pinterest logins, I've decided to center our walking on Greve-in-Chianti, 50 minutes away from Florence by bus. About a mile from here is the village Montefioralle, where Amerigo Vespuci was born. I'm purposefully leaving the day wide open for whatever exploring we want to do. One thing for certain, we are not going to spend a day in the Chianti wine region without taking advantage of a bottle for a picnic lunch. Bethany & I plan on bringing our art stuff, so maybe we'll draw some of the countryside. Along the lines of art, we could also go north to Vinci to pay homage to Leonardo, but it all depends on time.
• TUESDAY, MARCH 31: Florence museums. Splitting the day between the Uffizzi Gallery (think basically every painting Boticelli ever did) and the Academy (David). Explore at night.
• WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1: Train to Venice. St. Mark's cathedral, canals, and a restaurant recommended by two different couples called "Pasta to Go." They make the pasta from scratch in front of you. Soooo excited. We're only going to spend a day here, though, because Venice is an incredibly expensive city and we don't want to dish out for a hotel. So we'll take a later train back to Milan for the night.
• THURSDAY, APRIL 2: Geneva. I'm still unsure about how I'll get us here, becuase we only have a France-Italy train pass and we'd have to pay a lot extra for a highspeed train to Switzerland. So my plan right now is to take slightly slower ones to one of the French towns about an hour away from Geneva and then transfer to a cheaper local train into the city. At that point, I'll we'll have the afternoon to see St. Pierre's Cathedral, the Reformation Wall, and walk around the old city and lakefront. The perverse side of me is so looking forward to dragging my Lutheran friends around the epicenter of Reformedom. I'VE BEEN PATIENT FOR THREE YEARS, I GET MY CALVINIST AFTERNOON. And then at night, we'll train hop our way to Paris.
• FRIDAY, APRIL 3 - SATURDAY, APRIL 4: Paris. Don't have a schedule and I don't think we'll make one. We just have a list of things we don't want to miss: Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Shakespeare & Co., sunset from Sacre Coeur, Arc de Triomphe, Latin Quarter, and possibly the Luxembourg Gardens. And of course, hit some cafes. And then we'll take the Chunnel back to London to make it to Cambridge in time for Easter services on Sunday.

Being broke college students, we're going to be staying in a bunch of hostels and eating out of grocery stores. We're also bringing only what we can fit inside a bag/backpack. That includes room for souvenirs. IT'S GOING TO BE LIKE THE HOBBIT!!! SO MUCH ADVENTURE!!!

So that's the first, and most insane, leg of our break-time European festivities. 11 days, 8 cities (plus Pompeii and the Tuscan villages). But before then, I have two papers to write, provisions to cook for the first few days, trains to reserve, and a bunch of documents/boarding passes/maps to print out. And there's a solar eclipse to gawk at on Friday morning. It's a busy week ahead of us.

Walk to Grantchester

Following George Herbert and C.S. Lewis. (....and Pink Floyd...but they're not as classy....)

 

 

February festivities

We walked on top of a cathedral.

 

Hung out with the angels...
 

...up there.

 

Figured out that the less money I spend on food, the more I have for travel. The inevitable consequence of living on £10 a week for food is that you quickly amass an array of domestic, making-everything-from-scratch skills.

 

Ravioli, for instance.

 

In my moment of triumph as I dropped the ravioli into the water to boil, I realized that the pieces at the bottom of the bowl stuck together. So I took the natural course of action and baked it. It was strangely good.

 

Checked out the inside of Trinity College on a lazy Saturday,

 

 

and gawked at the Sir Isaac Newton memorial in the chapel.

 

 

Almost made it to the Bridge of Sighs, but we couldn't get into St. John's College (where it's located). But the Backs were lovely to walk through anyways.

 

 

Explored St. Edward's Passage,

 

 

and found a copy of George Herbert's poetry inside one of its old bookshops (IT'S NOWHERE IN THE STATES).

 

 

Met up with a new friend from church for a drink at The Eagle.

 

 

Went for a midnight walk through the city.

 

 

The chapel is....to use the cliché....hauntingly beautiful at night.

 

 

And looked back at it all on Castle Hill

 



He restores my soul

Ely Cathedral

After going through the trifecta of death last semester (school/work, money, and interpersonal drama), I made no secret here of being worn out. Mercifully, by the time things in Milwaukee seemed a little too claustrophobic, I was boarding a plane that would keep me five months and an ocean away from ground zero. I could regroup in Europe and deal with whatever problems still lingered when I returned home.

In my anticipation for Europe, I didn't realize just how much of a balm living here would actually be. Nearly two months in, I see how God has given me a new perspective. My church here is going through Hebrews 11 on Sundays, and I am pointed to God's faithfulness week after week. I'm making godly friendships which I hope will last long after I fly home. And for a while, I'm living in a place I had always thought would simply be a daydream on my part. This spring, so far, has felt like a rest after a long period of struggle.

I wish I could go back to November Sarah and show her that God really does follow through on His promises. I'm living through Susannah Spurgeon's words: "He may make us sore, but He will bind us up." I asked God to build my faith, and He showed me that I had misplaced my trust in an assortment of earthly variables. That whole process hurts a lot. But instead of stopping there, He drew me back to Himself and showed me His goodness. He daily makes me more and more reliant upon Himself alone.

Someone shared this at the women's bible study the other week, and it's resonated with me ever since:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

     his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

    great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, 

    “therefore I will hope in him. 

The Lord is good to those who wait for him, 

    to the soul who seeks him.

It is good that one should wait quietly 

    for the salvation of the Lord.

It is good for a man that he bear 

    the yoke in his youth. 

Let him sit alone in silence 

    when it is laid on him;

let him put his mouth in the dust— 

    there may yet be hope;

let him give his cheek to the one who strikes, 

    and let him be filled with insults.

For the Lord will not 

    cast off forever,

but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion 

    according to the abundance of his steadfast love;

for he does not afflict from his heart 

    or grieve the children of men.

Lamentations 3:22-33

Living the lifestyle of the rich and famous

To round up all my recent activities, here is the good old bullet-point list, in no particular order. Because those always make the most satisfying travel journals.

• Been to three cathedrals: Ely, Salisbury, and Winchester.
• Snuck into the crypt of a cathedral as they were closing.
• Found a Roman oil lamp in an antique shop for £49. In that moment, I regretted being poor like I never had before. Lamp? Five weeks worth of food?
• Stared at what they claim is King Arthur's Round Table.
• Watched a swan try to swim against the current of the Avon River.
• Checked out the ruins of a Roman villa.
• Paid homage to Jane Austen at her grave.
• Stayed at the home of strangers. TAKEN 4!!!!
• Experienced an Anglican evensong service.
• Tried authentic samosas, made by friends from Africa. So good.
• Learned that "pants" does not mean the same thing in British as it does in American. For example, if you say "I haven't washed my pants in weeks," you will raise serious questions about your personal hygiene habits.
• Attended a Lutheran baptism.
• Met up with the student crowd at church, and found out that spotting Stephen Hawking around the university is almost a right of passage.
• No, I haven't yet.
• Saw Henry V at the Cambridge Arts Theater. I am now a culture snob and American Shakespeare plays (with the fake British accents) will never be the same again.
• Had a dance party in our room. Ok so it was just Bethany and myself, but that totally still counts.

The pictures (in chronological order) (#historynerd):

 

Ely Cathedral. Since it was my first cathedral, the awestruck-ness is all over my face. Mid-afternoon was a beautiful time to come, with the light casting a golden hue throughout the place. Made me think of heaven. We were too cheap to pay the entrance fee, so we didn't get to explore much of the cathedral. However, this Saturday, my art class is going back, so I will finally get to see the famous octagonal lantern at crossing of the transepts.

 

 

On the balcony in the baptistery, there were stained glass windows depicting biblical love stories, like Isaac & Rebekah, Jacob & Rachel, Ruth & Boaz, etc. Very pretty.

 

Authentic ancient kitsch.

 

 

OVERNIGHT FIELD TRIP!!! Day #1: Lullingstone Roman Villa.

 

 

The Romans were stylin people. We took this picture for our honors professors back in the states. Look at us, all grown up. Also it just hit me how disturbingly shorter I am than anybody around me. No wait, I'm just funsized.

 

 

Down a path, about a mile away from the villa is a tiny village-castle-manor setup. I can't figure out what to call it. This is the "castle." From what I read of the signs, they've turned the bottom floor into public restrooms. Kind of shatters the illusion.

 

 

A quaint, blurry shot of the church.

 

 

Inside the church.

 

 

Last but not least, the manor house. And as these are the only three buildings around, I have no idea what this place was.

 

After this, we hopped back in our van and drove south of London until we hit Salisbury.

 

 

CATHEDRAL!!!

 

 

CLOISTER!!!

 

 

SARAH!!!

 

 

They have a George Herbert memorial window. afiuidvoafdh0rdghfboshfdbp

 

 

The coolest chapel I have ever seen.

 

 

This cathedral was absolutely stunning. Both powerful and elegant. The whole time, I was trying to wrap my mind around the possibility of something being this spectacular. I couldn't help thinking of the majesty and power of God.

 

 

The Little Swan That Could. He never actually made any progress, but I have faith in him.

 

 

Day #2: Fareham. It's near Portsmouth and Southhampton. The fieldtrip served a dual purpose. First, all the academics. Second, the particular Lutheran denomination I'm studying in while in England is really tiny. So our school organizes trips to visit different congregations around the country. It was a good setup for students like us, because members of the church fed us and put us up for the night. And we got to see all the cool cathedrals and such along the way. Free trip = no brainer. Anyways, this was the church we visited. TINY. And it was packed full because our hosts' granddaughters were being baptized.

 

After church, we drove to Winchester.

 

 

THE ROUND TABLE. Ok, so they know it's a fake from the 13th century, but that doesn't stop me from claiming I saw the Round Table. No indeed. Anyways, the great thing about this is that each knight's place is labeled. We found Lancelot, Gawain, Galahad, and Mordred. Pretty cool.

 

 

Winchester Cathedral. As we were walking up to it, the bells were ringing out and it lent a very joyful feel to the whole experience. I was so excited.

 

 

It's just as beautiful as Salisbury, but in a different way. A lot more feminine and botanical. The pillars melt into the ceiling and the ribs are decorated with flowers. It'd be easy to forget that this is all made of stone.

 

 

What I really came here for.

 

 

And I wasn't going to leave without a picture of Jane and I together at last.

 

 

The chapel after evensong.

 

 

The crypt. There's a random foot of water filling it.

 

All in all, a good trip.

 

Other random pictures:

 

 

 

The view when I walk to the divinity lectures. Except normally there isn't snow, because England is just a really cool place like that.

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with anything I've been talking about. But it made me way too happy.