In the Spring of 2007, Emily Passey wrote a column for The Lawrentian about her term at the London Centre. Here you can read her articles and get a sense of the time she spent in London.
London
Calling: The First Stretch
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 4/6/07
The "Jazz" food court in Concourse C of the O'Hare
airport displays a plaster statue of suit-clad jazz musicians and Ella croons
over the hum of busy people stopping for a bite before making their way
somewhere else. It's pretty grimy, but I thought I had found a haven, and after thinking a
little more about how this haven reminded me of Monday nights in the LU
Underground Coffeehouse and the people I love but left in Appleton, I was ready to think about my
destination and my trip. Airports are, in a word, singular. There is a myriad of places one can go to or
come from, as well as a myriad of people who make their homes in these places
or visit them. I always feel insufficient when I stop in a big hub like Chicago
or, more often, Minneapolis,
because I am most usually traveling somewhere small and nondescript, i.e. Home
(which is always small and nondescript when you're 20).
But today I get to be among those select hundreds of thousands
(millions? I
don't know, I don't do numbers) who are traveling to a real
Destination. Lawrentians
have been making this same trek, albeit
from differing locations
across the country/world, to experience one of the Lawrence
Differences, the
London Centre, since 1970. I wonder what Lawrentians of a different
generation
experienced in London,
as I wonder what I will. An "overnight" flight, during the course of which one loses an entire
night, ends at 6:30 a.m. As we prepared to land, a lowdown of the intricacies of
entering London Heathrow played on the individual screens, informing us that
any connection takes 50-60 minutes to make in Heathrow - ANY.
I wasn't sure I wanted to believe it, so I just got off the plane and
started
walking (after looking at the map, it didn't look like it would be too
far to
the Immigration queue). I slowed my pace after the first three tunnels.
It didn't take 50 minutes, but Immigration isn't the end of it.
After clearing
the border, one walks further for Customs (which one walks right past
anyway)
and then even further, through the baggage claim after claiming bags,
following
the signs for the Underground, literally underground and into a new
maze of
slightly more claustrophobic tunnels for about 15 more minutes.
Just a note, there are people coming the other direction (from the Underground,
train or another terminal) so if you have luggage, expect to be regularly, and
discourteously, crammed against a wall. Finally it was the Underground (down escalator plus two suitcases made for quite
a time), a short walk, and the Centre.
However harrowing the journey, I arrived. My compatriots trickled in at various
times during the day, and we all swapped travel stories of annoying neighbors,
change upgrades, films watched and food eaten.
After arriving, we stared blankly for 24 hours, slept a little, and
then on
Saturday, seven of us embarked on our first adventure. On a whim,
after finding Westminster Bridge and facing the thick, cold,
Thames-scented wind, we flipped through our still-pristine mini "A to
Z" books (a really good map, by the way) and decided to walk all the
way
back to the Centre, which is like walking from the LU campus all the
way past
the mall, but with curves, crowds and cobblestones.
This was our second journey, and it got me thinking about how London is a destination, but is made up of
possible journeys and destinations. The city itself spans more than the
distance between Oshkosh and Green Bay. Something like 7.5 million people
live here. But if you think about it, there are probably more like 11 or 12
million including the visitors, the daily in-and-out of people by plane, train,
foot and bus. You cannot walk down the street without seeing a few people rolling suitcases,
or hearing people speaking languages of which you cannot even guess the
continent of origin (at last estimate, 300 languages are spoken by elementary-level children in London).
So, to get back to a query I put forth a few paragraphs before, as a
Lawrentian, I already feel tremendously small. Our journey here from Appleton
is sort of comparable to the millions of journeys made daily by immigrants,
businesspeople, journalists, tourists, students, families and friends. If the
journey was harrowing for us Lawrence Londoners, imagine that of the refugees,
desperate immigrants, and aspiring anythings that make it here.
In a sense, we can't feel insignificant; we are just a small part of a giant
group.
London
Calling
The Mispronounced (and Overlooked?) City of the North
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 4/13/07
The oft over-quoted Samuel Johnson (a late eighteenth
century guy) said, "When a man is tired of London,
he is tired of life, for there is in London
all that life can afford." While Sam was mostly correct, I find this too
narrow of a scope. It might be true that whatever you can think of you can find, or something very
similar to it, in London - but I'd like to add that if it's not there, it's
probably in the northern city of Edinburgh, Scotland.
Think Scotlandand
you might think of a blue-painted Mel Gibson and heather-covered
hills. Or
intruding-looking, medieval stone castles set high on craggy cliffs.
Maybe you'd think of slurred but charming accents, guys in
skirts, sheep
farmers, or tartans and tweeds. It's all there, but in Edinburgh it's accompanied by some just as
charming, cool, extra bits. Edinburgh (not pronounced like Pittsburgh,
but instead "Edin-bruh" or "Edin-buruh," depending on who's
talking), is a little less than one-seventh the size of my urban pseudo-home, London, but certainly
contains as much in its own unique Scottish way. Scotland, if you didn't
know, is sort of a country on its own, one of the four which make up the United
Kingdom of Great Britain (England,
Northern Ireland, and Wales
being the others). London is the capital of the
whole place but Edinburgh is
the upstairs equivalent and even houses its own parliament buildings.
I could talk ad nauseam about the touristy things, but I'd rather
tell you
about my tiny little glance at the real Scotland.
Right now, there's a big debate over Scottish independence - many of the youth
want it, many of the stodgy old folks don't. Walking along what's called
"The Royal Mile," the main drag which leads down a big, big hill from
Edinburgh Castle,
I saw three blatant statements
scrawled in chalk on the sides of a parliament office building, a
monument, and
a church. "End London Rule" was the one that stuck with me the most.
It's a very energetic time as the Scottish Nationalist Party
(SNP), for
independence, is up against the Liberal Democrats (Lib Dems), against
independence, in the upcoming Scottish elections. Scottish crime
fiction writer Ian Rankin is covering the election for the
London Times, and gives a great picture of the feeling in Edinburgh from an insider's view. Rankin says in the Apr. 10, 2007 Times, "If Edinburgh is to prosper in the
21st century, it needs to lose its fear of change," referring in part to
the idea of independence, and in part to the push for upgrading the city with
things like new transport and energy-efficient housing.
It seems to me that Edinburgh
is quite contemporary. The main strip in the New Town - which lies to the north
of the massive hill which is central Edinburgh,
the south of which is Old Town - is Princes
Street, a buzzing, broad, store-laden street with
fashion you'd find on Knightsbridge in London
(think Chicago's
Michigan Avenue).
The city is like any other booming city in this sense. Even
walking down the very pretty and shady Water of Leith river walkway,
one
feels the effect of industry and growth. Beginning as I did in Dean
Village (from
"dene," or valley), a tiny and stony little neighborhood, one
meanders in a very pre-industrial area. When the river begins to broaden the
houses become more modern, and finally one reaches the port area of Leith. At the end of the Water of Leith walkway, there lies - and you'd absolutely
never have guessed this one, especially if you've got romantic ideals about Scotland like
me - a gigantic mall. Very 21st century, no?
The whole city is a wonderful mish-mash of the old and new: Young sentiment,
old buildings. New malls, old boats (the mall is connected to the HMS
Britannia). Young clubs, old churches. Young DJs spinning dancy pop, and
middle-aged kilted men blasting away on the bagpipes (a lovely and apt sound to
hear while wandering the city). Old castle, new castle (Holyrood Palace
is relatively new, mostly 17th century, and is still the summer residence of
the real live Queen and family).
Edinburgh is as lively as London, but a little less crowded, even in
the main area. The mood is different, as the Ian Rankin column which I cited
above demonstrates.
It's a foreign country within a foreign country, and feels independent
regardless of what the outcome of the elections will be.
London
Calling
A Foggy Day in London
Town…
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 4/20/07
Gershwin's romantic writing makes fog seem pleasant. I was
expecting fog and rain. I was expecting a lot of rain actually - it is spring
after all, and who doesn't like rain in spring? I was expecting London to
be a city of quick-draw umbrellas and Burberry trench coats. It
probably is this way normally and probably will be by the time you're
reading this column, but for now let me tell you about London in the 70s (degree of weather that is,
not the age of disco).
First, let's think about London
as that romantically gray place. There are enough museums in London to cover almost all of the cloudy,
rainy days there could be in a year. Gershwin even notes that "the British
Museum had lost its charm," thus
making it clear that it was constantly gray for him in London.
It should, in fact, be cloudy and rainy so that a person actually
wants to
traverse inside a stony, dark building for hours at a time. A lot
of the big museums like the British Museum are free and house
magnificent
collections of art and artifacts. They are must-sees. However, I
haven't seen the inside of many of these places because I can't seem
to tear myself away from the sun.
When it gets warm in Appleton,
you can count on Main Hall Green to be a sea of scantily clad students with
Frisbees and maybe a pile of books or two. Flip-flops make their way onto the street again and suddenly it is more than
acceptable, it is expected that everyone wear as little as possible for as long
as possible. Well, London in
the warm springtime is just the same. Warmth in the spring is different from
summer warmth because it is so unexpected and so utterly new that it seems to
prompt absolutely radical wardrobe and outlook changes. I spent Saturday in Bath, a small town about an
hour and a half west of London
by train. Bath
looks a bit like a transplanted Tuscan town - hilly with flowers and
yellow-stoned, Italianate architecture - and in the warmth and sun it was even
more Tuscan. People ate ice cream, flopped around in sandals and shorts, and generally
soaked it up. There is a gorgeous park in Bath
which slopes down from a sort of street called the Royal Crescent. It was the most crowded place to be, even more crowded than the Roman Baths
Museum, because who wants to be in a museum when it's 75 degrees in April
(seriously, I'm troubled by this)? My travel mates and I even decided to do the cheapest thing there is to do in Bath: play mini golf. At home there are frequently warm spells in the early spring, but the trouble
is that there is nothing to do because nothing opens until May in Wisconsin. This is the pleasure of being in the U.K.,
where they know how to
capitalize on nice weather (and tourists) and make a point of opening
everything in April (even though it's not usually like this in April).
Thus, the ice cream trucks run and the mini golf course and lawn
bowling green
are open and in good use at the drop of a hat if the mercury should
happen to
rise. For a 78-degree Sunday in the city, everyone who resides
close to Hyde Park
(and even those who don't, I imagine) came out
in bathing suits, board shorts, flip-flops and summer dresses.
Picnics, games of "footy" or Frisbee (sometimes thrown
dangerously
close to my head), or just sun-basking - trying to get as tan as it is
possible
to do in one afternoon - were a few of the activities of choice in the
park.
So, with weather like this, you are no doubt asking
yourself, why do we
associate London
with fog? Where are those romantic gray days? Well, I don't know the answers to those questions.
I imagine that Mr. Gore might have something to say about this weather, though.
London Calling: St. George's Day
King Arthur, St. George, John Cleese and Ken Livingstone
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 4/27/07
King Arthur, St. George, John Cleese and Ken Livingstone.
Most likely, only two of these names hold any significance for you guys on the
west side of the pond. King Arthur because he's the mythologized first king of England - and,
has anyone seen Disney's animated tale of Arthur, "The Sword in the
Stone"? John Cleese is obvious. He and his crew (best known as Monty Python's Flying
Circus, for those of you who may have resided under a rock growing up) made the
other film tribute to the great first monarch of jolly old England. This past Monday, one event brought the four men together.
April 23 is St.
George's day, England's (not Great Britain's, the difference is quite big)
national day, which is kind of like the 4th of July but is more just a nominal
celebration of the patron saint of England, St. George. It's not even a
holiday. The day has its roots in the 12th century when Richard the Lionheart adopted
St. George and the flag of St. George, a red cross on a white background, as England's. It seems like this day has never had much recognition, however. This year London's
Mayor Ken
Livingstone (whose little signature is Mayor of London) decided to make
a
weekend out of the day. The weekend's events celebrated the history of
prolific
English humor (sort of apt for a day which is never taken seriously
anyway),
starting with a daylong showcase of various film shorts and clips from
many
decades of humorists and culminating on Monday night with a
large-screen
showing of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" in Trafalgar Square.
Monday's activities started with over 4,000 people showing up to
break the
world record for coconut orchestras (they did, by quite a lot), led by
the cast
of Terry Gilliam's and Terry Jones' "Spamalot," the musical based on
the Holy Grail. One of the many free London newspapers, the London
Lite, has a
little blurb and photo showing that Gilliam and Jones were actually
there (I didn't
see them unfortunately), leading the orchestra and doing their part for
good
old George. It was, I think, a very appropriately English event (Way to go Mr.
Livingstone!).
It was the first time since arriving here that I have
not been
surrounded by immigrants or tourists. Everyone that I heard was very
English.
Folks sipped cans of beer, pre-mixed gin and tonics, and Pimm's (Google
it),
smoked a lot, and quoted along with the film. Some wore the English
flag of St.
George on their backs like capes. A couple of blokes got up and danced,
unabashedly, with the song "Knights of the Round Table." Even the
choice of movies was absolutely right. Besides the fact that Monty
Python is the biggest and most recognized name in English humor (Ricky
Gervais
is getting up there, though), the actual subject matter was perfect.
It's
ridiculously silly, but the film does show Arthur as a pretty serious
guy. He
predates the adoption of St. George by a few hundred years and he is
even more
important a marker for the beginning of the great monarchy. The
20th-century equivalent to King A. and St. G. seem to be the comedians
that
are so present and so well known. As I said, Ricky Gervais is the new
name
synonymous with English humor (if you don't know him yet, you will
soon). He
might as well be the new PM; the world would be better. But, of course,
John
Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Eric Idle, etc. (the rest are less
famous,
sorry!) virtually invented English humor, or at least made it
internationally
known. What great guys to celebrate on a day which celebrates England. St. George's
day is not well known, but Ken Livingstone certainly made it good fun.
London
Calling
Explaining the Unexplainable: 1,000 years in 800 words
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 5/11/07
I don't think I've been obvious enough about this point just
yet, but it seems like a very logical way to sum up the first half of this
amazing term. London
is really freaking cool.
I am starting to feel as though I am able to paint a
picture of Londonbecause
I've been seeing it daily for over a month. I am constantly moved
by the ethnic diversity, which is truly unlike anywhere
else, and also at the simultaneous history and modernity that can be
seen,
especially in the architecture. In every era people have written
without
consensus on what this city is. Here's my attempt.
First of all, every time you get off the Tube, you're in a different scene.
Life is virtually different from block to block. The city grew up as quite a
mélange of towns, while also going through waves and waves of immigration,
creating the varied boroughs that make up greater London. It is diverse ethnically and
architecturally, both of which I will try to exemplify here. London is not like New York
or Chicago
where you know which blocks of which streets, which high schools, and which
churches belong to which ethnicity. For Londoners, a place that is just over
50-percent populated by one ethnicity (or at least one smallish geographical
area) is an ethnic neighborhood. But that's only 50 percent, which means that
the other 50 percent come from everywhere else, and I mean everywhere.
Speaking of London's diversity: I had the chance
to witness something totally London
this past weekend. It was called "Eat London," and we did. Twelve
voluntary, aid, or community groups hailing from different boroughs spent
months planning and rehearsing their building of a square mile of London completely out of
food. The roads were dense gingerbread, the Thames was a river of Perrier(though,
just a note, it would have been better represented with Coke), the
London Eye was pizza, Harrods was fruitcake, etc. One group was a
community group for Turkish women and they made their whole
mile out of Turkish food. Another was a group for older Bangladeshi
people who
put together the Tower
of London with samosas
and pakora (Google it). Almost every mile had cake, curry and couscous, no
matter who built it. It was totally free, I'd like to add. And everyone had completely unlimited
access to as much London
as they could stuff themselves with (of course there were queues, but they were
relatively civilized).
London is also
different from other cities because while a huge part of it was planned and
erected during the great era of urban growth in the 19th century, the city has
many different pasts. First, it was a Roman city, which is where the name comes
from. You can see the last remaining relics of the Roman city wall just across a busy
street from the Tower
of London, and,
improbably, right next to a really ugly modern building. Then think about Elizabethan London (Shakespeare's time): the London
where brothels lined the South Bank, where theatres sprung up against the will
of the upper classes, the Londonof
the Plague. Fast-forward to the era of the printing press madness
which has shaped London
incredibly to this day as a city of words; the time of the one civil
uprising
Great Britain has seen; the bustling place of William Hogarth and his
comrades
in city satire, Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope. There are
hundreds of pubs and inns that are marked for which author drank
there, from Johnson to Dickens to Keats to whomever you can think of.
Fast-forward again to Dickens when suburbs were growing and
growing and shortly
after when some of the most marvelous museums in the world were helping
create
a new cultural center in the City of Westminster
and the boroughs directly next door. There are churches that have switched back and forth between Catholicism and
Protestantism, depending on who reigned and who wrote and who thought what. There is prewar London and postwar London and postmodern London and throughout all of this very little
architectural integrity has been upheld. From the South Bank, just across from St. Paul's
Cathedral, the
view of said cathedral is almost entirely obscured by hideous, dark
gray office
buildings. The South Bank itself seems to be some sort of
experiment in postmodern buildings, which are largely weird and ugly.
London
celebrates with an edible map built by learning-disabled students and elderly
immigrants. London
builds new buildings on top of the site of one of the more famous of the first
theaters to be built. London takes as
its symbol a building shaped like a glass pickle. London is English, British, European and most
noticeably global. London
is unplanned, fluid, anachronistic, historical and new.
London
Calling
Out of the box, onto the Tube
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 5/18/07
Okay, before I get sued for saying things I shouldn't, let
me just say that I know that studying abroad isn't supposed to be a vacation.
And it's not - at least not in the usual sense of relax-until-you-melt kind of
vacation. So what am I (not) saying then? Well, as I sit here and deal with the daily
barrage of e-mails (that part of normal Lawrence life doesn't go away, sorry)
from various people like my advisor and dealing with various things like, oh,
you know, honors projects and the GRE, I'm realizing that my mind is simply not
equipped to deal with thinking about "the future" (cue the
horror-flick music and accompanying shriek) at this point.
I'm in London.
I go to class like a normal junior in college, but then after class I run out
into the city and explore. We all do here. In Appleton,
you know the drill. You go to class, go to lunch, go to the grill, do homework,
and maybe (maybe) do things like leave campus occasionally, if you can find a
friend with a car who is willing to take a chance with their lottery parking
space for a couple hours to go to the mall. In London, however, there is so much more to do
that is actually more important than class and homework. Class supplements
exploration, rather than the other way around. Homework is done on the Tube or
in between class, or for a couple of hours on Sunday; all other time is devoted
to trying to squeeze in as much of London life as time and money will allow,
and this is how it should be.
So instead of being consumed by academics and the comfortable social box that
is Lawrence
life, I find myself consumed by that exact thing that university is supposedly
about in the end: self-discovery and the pursuit of independence.
My mom came to visit me over the midterm break last week. I was pretty excited
to see her as I've never gone longer than three weeks without doing so for my
whole life (yes, I was spoiled, thank you). But about two hours into her
seven-day visit, I realized that I felt hampered, tied down, and a bit like an
unpaid tour guide. I know my way around and what there is to do, thus had to
lead her through the ins and outs of riding the tube, catching the bus, looking
for cars on the street, social interactions in the city, etc. It was
frustrating. I wanted to be alone.
Despite the fact that I have very close family and friends, I have always seen
myself as fairly independent. But since coming to London, I have come to understand what
self-reliance really means. My rational decision-making abilities have
increased. I don't worry so much about things, especially - and this might turn
out to be quite detrimental, track me down this time next year to find out -
"the future."
I spent so many hours this year working out "plans" for "the
future" - making a) b) and c) plans for every aspect of the next year. I
know that my previous planning was good, but I am more relaxed now than ever
before. I go to clubs and museums and shows and whatnots and basically just
breathe in London
for all that it is, and I don't think about how good I am, or how good anyone
else is. I question what that even means. What does it matter if I don't get into every single internship or grad school
that I want, if right now, right this second?
Seven million-plus people are
buzzing around me doing fabulous things, some of which I want to see or be a
part of. If "the future" doesn't work out as planned, then there will
always be London, and the days spent walking from Camden Town to Edgware Road,
from Trafalgar Square to Brechin Place, from corner to corner of Hyde Park.
There will always be the nights when Lawrentians took over the clubs and showed
London how it's
done. There will always be the supreme independence which comes from inhabiting
such a brilliant, vibrant and gigantic place as this.
If anyone tried to tell me this when I first applied to come to the London
Centre, I would have nodded my head and looked at them with supreme
understanding, but I would have been lying. One month ago, I did not know what
not being stressed out about school/life felt like.
Thus, here is my first Lawrence London Centre term revelation: being
"alone," or maybe just being in London,
turns you into a very independent and strong person. If you aren't at least a
little bit independent already, you better work on pulling some strings and get
a late application in for the London Centre, or any other study abroad program.
Cut the strings, and just go.
London
Calling: the last call
By: Emily Passey
Posted: 5/25/07
It's almost the end of the term and there's still so much to
say about London,
life, and other things. Unfortunately, my column is done after this and
so I
have to be picky about the last remarks I leave you with. As I
sit down to try to generalize and categorize my experiences, I find
that
it is almost impossible. There is no single experience that strikes me
as being
particularly revelatory or epitomizing. No single place that I've
visited thus far in the UK that I could call my
"favorite." If you hadn't guessed from previous weeks, every moment
this term has been surprising, every place visited has been memorable, every
hour has been well spent. There are still things that I want to see, and I still have time so hopefully I
will. There are enough things to do and see here to fill a lifetime; if, that
is, you're willing to look at life a little differently.
A lot of tourists hit the big spots - Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the London
Eye, and Harrod's. There are a lot of great museums, and a lot of famous things
to see and do in this city. Yes, you could have a wonderful time just sticking
to the guidebook.
However, London is not only Nelson's Column in Trafalgar Square; London is not only Hyde Park; London
is not only the Houses of Parliament, the Strand, Piccadilly Circus, and Covent Garden.
Here are my favorite things about London:
Regent's Park. OK, this one's pretty famous. But for good reason. It's huge and
incredibly intricate, and you can get lost inside of it - unlike Hyde Park, which is really just a rectangle. One hot, sunny
day in April, I followed a path under some arbors, and suddenly wound up in a
huge, circular rose garden, surrounded by quiet, leafy alcoves made of
trellises. Very Alice
in Wonderland.
Camden High Street.
I get to hang out here for my Urban Anthropology project on London punks, so I've really come to love it.
One of the markets that make up this street is built under an old train bridge,
creating a dark, dank, atmosphere. The signs in this market are mostly neon and
the wares are very alternative. The rest of the street is its own sort of market, lined with stores selling all
sorts of mad items and blasting all sorts of music. Camden
is currently a sort of home base for
punk rockers, and anyone else who is a little alternative. There
is a group of punks who sit outside the tube station daily, much like
guard dogs. They sport the real gear: huge Mohawks, leather jackets
with
patches promoting anarchy, fishnets, and spikes in every place
imaginable. If you go here, it's essential to be listening to the
Sex Pistols on your iPod
in order to pretend that you are in late '70s London at the dawn of the
punk
scene (which, sorry to say, was not actually born on this street. Its
real
birthplace is a 15-minute walk from the Centre, in King's Road).
Brick Lane. If you like South Asian food, go here. Brick Lane and the surrounding streets in East London are home to
a population that is about 60 percent South Asian (Indian, Bangladeshi and
others). There are restaurants and snack places with authentic food and cheap
buffet lunches. Really cheap samosas and Indian sweets are essential for a day
spent walking around.
Walking. Instead of jumping on the tube, I sometimes just walk as far as I can.
It's given me a better sense of how streets and neighborhoods are connected, where
the tube actually goes, and how big and great the city really is.
Riding the night bus. The Tube closes around midnight or just after, so for
nights out, careful planning is often required. Fortunately, "our"
bus (the one that comes to South Kens, near the centre) is the number 14 bus,
which runs 24 hours a day. Basically, you can catch any bus to Leicester Square,
or Piccadilly Circus (very popular
destinations for most bus lines, which is convenient) and then grab the 14
home. This has worked for us London Lawrentians. We have our own stop that is
familiar and comfortable. The night bus provides lots of fun views of late
nightlife in London,
not just the lights of the city, but also weird drugged out people, chatty
drunk foreign guys, and other random people just trying to make it home at 3
a.m. It's a good way to end the night, really.
The free papers. It's how every Londoner catches up on news, from the buyout of
Boots by an American company to a Keira Knightley sighting in Hyde
Park. Read about William, read about Maddie (the young Scottish
girl who was kidnapped in Portugal
while on family vacation), read your horoscope, read the football scores - all
for free, people!! There are at least three of them that I can think of offhand, and you get them
when you're getting on the Tube at the busiest times of the day. Good Tube
reading, especially when avoiding homework.
Hopefully you've gotten something out of my column this term. Writing it has
been good for me. This isn't propaganda, but I also hope that at least a few
readers were inspired to come to London,
whether it's for the London Centre or just for a trip.
The Lawrence London
Centre - as cheesy as it sounds - really has been the best and most varied
learning experience of my time at Lawrence.
I know that any of my current comrades could confirm that statement and add
their own ideas and experiences to my short little list.
