Laurie's light travel travel tips

Where DO I start? It's December 31, 2017, and I'm lying in my beautiful studio here in Falls Church, Virginia watching the sun rise. I'm about to get started or rather get finishing a 5,000-word essay for my World Novel module at King's College London. I know what you're thinking, don't waste your writing hands on this blog. But how can I not? For me, 2017 was the kind of year that comes once in a lifetime. For the girl who once thought she'd never leave San Francisco , whose friends were running off backpacking in Switzerland and whose brother took enchanting photos from the Seine, it's remarkable that I've become such an adventurous spirit. When I head back to London, it'll mark my fifth trip across the Atlantic this quarter. And while I keep telling people I won't be back to America for the whole of 2018, I doubt that's true. Here are the highlights from 2017: JANUARY: I rejoined a coloring group at the library in Alice, Texa

I'm flying back to the U.S. Sunday because I have had a lease in the States that doesn't end til January. I had also flown out there in October during Reading Week, ostensibly to pick up my cat, but I think there was a deeper reason. I think I might have been having trouble Letting Go. When I got to King's College London, excited as I was, I was daunted. As I fumbled to find my way around the city -- somehow not as I remembered it from my last trip, in 2008 -- I dealt with harsh realities regarding the pound-versus-dollar (not as favourable as I'd thought!), lack of pet-friendly properties (bloody hell!), and exhausting trips to the doctor because I arrived with a thyroid condition (and dealt with frustration at having to start everything anew). Those first few weeks, too, were fraught with trying to catch up on reading, getting to know my classmates in my core class and related course on the Great Fire through Great Exhibition (it would have been too tricky in World

I want to tell these two little stories before I forget. About a month ago, when I was coming back to London from the U.S., I had a smart, sociable cabbie (Black Cab). He told me about how the cyclists were making it a living nightmare for drivers in the city, and sure enough, as we maneuvered our way from Waterloo to Ealing, more than a handful of cyclists were in our lane. They were trying to ride as fast as cars, but it forced the cars behind them, i.e. us, to slow down a bit to avoid killing them. "Really annoying," I said. "I'm all for environmentalism, but it's not sensible for people on bikes to think they are in cars." Somehow, the conversation turned to other topics, like film and television, and the driver told me he had picked up Carrie Fisher "when she was in town a few weeks ago." "Shortly before she died? Wow. I know she was here to film Graham Norton." "She told me three cabs had already passed her by when I picked

I'm a proud graduate student at King's College London in the Eighteenth-Century Studies programme. I was first admitted clear back in 2009, deferred numerous times, reapplied, was readmitted, deferred again and again and now, am finally here. So of course I am thrilled, especially on days like last Wednesday. We joined one of our convenors, Emrys Jones, from King's at the Painted Hall at the Old Royal Naval College grounds in Greenwich. About a third of the class made it out there on a very cool day and it was worth each shivering moment out on the grounds, a World Heritage Site in western London. The soaring eighteenth-century buildings were originally constructed for the Royal Hospital for Seamen at Greenwich, which was designed by Christopher Wren, and built between 1696 and 1712. Wren also designed dozens of churches peppered throughout London, most notably the rebuilt St. Paul's Cathedral. The hospital closed in the mid 1800's and was shortly thereafter conve

..... ----------------------------------------------------Here I am at BFI, which I believe stands for British Film Institute . I'm on my second coke and rum with lime and am too knackered to look up the "I". The lighting is dim and low here in the bar, just as one would expect between suspenseful seminars on film. I've enjoyed two so far. The first was "Trust No One: Conspiracy and Paranoia in the Age of Fake News" , which was moderated by BBC presenter Samira Ahmed who introduced two journalists who gave their analyses of why one shouldn't trust anyone they meet in film. No that's not right. Shouldn't trust some people in film or some journalists? (I know they laughed about how journalists used to be the sign of who to trust in films but no more!) The movies in the first seminar did not include anything I have seen, I am embarrassed to say, but now very much want to see ("Coma" and especially "The Parallax View (19

The walk down there was gorgeous, the colors just a week past peak, and Virginia seemed to speak to me in gentler tones than it had before I left for London . I also could clearly see why Virginia Colony was the first English settlement in North America. The historic houses on Broad Street pay homage to some of the dandiest in Blighty, with an American twist - impressive Colonial designs, broad porches, exuberant maples and gorgeous firs. After I voted - the woman wished me good luck at grad school! - I journeyed over to Starbucks, put my legs up, and watched the day go by. I was musing that it had been the first time in I-don't-know-when that I didn't have some kind of agenda for an hour. The guy beside me had his legs up on the little ottoman and so I had copied him. Then my dad called, perfect timing. Fun to come back to Falls Church this week, forgetting that it would be the week to vote for a new governor. As a woman with two countries right now, I wasn't quite sure

I'm back in the U.S. for Reading Week, a new term to me but a welcome one. I love studying at King's College London, but also love coming "home". I still have a U.S. apartment til the end of the year (lease), and though it pains me financially, it's an emotional balm. Transitioning to a new country and way of life is harder than it seems when we're sitting around doodling pictures of Big Ben and dreaming of handsome Colin Firth-like men whisking us away in their chariots (with the steering wheel on the wrong side.) As I reflect on my three weeks in London , I'm struck more by the stories of the people I've met than anything else. My friend Kelly, who passed in 2008, once told me: "All cities are alike." She was right. New York, Chicago and London share Starbucks, traffic, a cosmopolitan sneer and swagger, and competitive financial climates. Walk into any busy Whole Foods and you'll forget exactly where you are unless you've picked u

I have recently been surprised, delighted even, to discover that Halloween is a well-celebrated holiday here in the UK! I know it didn't used to be, and the woman who works at the Heathrow tube claimed it's still not (while sitting under a spider-webby awning and a desk bedecked with paper jack-o-lanterns!) Pshaw! It's so celebrated that the English Department at my university, King's College London, will have a "proper" (as they say here) bash Tuesday night. Hooray! .: While I can't say whether the candy here will match the candy of my youth -- all those bags my brother and I spilt on the floor of our Livermore, California home in the 70s -- but I'm willing to bet they'd do. Meanwhile, I was delighted to get a press release on just what candies are dandiest back in my home states - California and Connecticut - as well as Virginia, where I most recently lived. A woman from a company called The Candy Store in L.A., said: "I’m writing you be

Here I am again at Terminal 5, and everyone around here thinks it's my home. It might as well be, as I am through here at least twice daily, rushing into the City of London . Today I forgot my student ID (so I could go into the Maughan Library at King's College and borrow a couple books I needed) so decided to think on my feet, or rather in my seat. "Excuse me, sir, but do you know London very well??" He, American accent, smiling: "It's been years since I was here." Me, smiling. "American?" He nodded. So I asked the chap next to me, "Where should I get off if I want to find a great bookstore that might have some classics?" "Piccadillly. W.H. Smith, across from the Meridian Hotel." I thanked him, and got off at Piccadilly (Circus), realizing I was about to disembark into an area that once held great romantic promise for me. A young man had scurried out of work and placed the backpack on my shoulders, wishing me adieu as I h

"You live here now, don't you!" said the nice woman at Giraffe, my regular stop for coffee at Heathrow's Terminal 5. When I say "regular" I don't mean it in the way one would if she chose, say, a coffee house down the block. No, this is where I arrive and depart every day as I journey back to my lodge, one bus stop away. Not only have I not found a flat yet, but I haven't even had a bloody moment to set out searching. I started my course almost two weeks late at King's College London, arriving with a health matter that has been tedious to deal with ( thyroid ) while struggling without the love of my life (Wally, my cat), which makes dealing with all manner of stresses more difficult. "I like you guys!" I told the nice lady. "You're very pleasant." She smiled. And it's so true that they're pleasant, a balm at the end of the day when I'm worried that the nodule on my thyroid could be cancer, that my cat is fa

I'm finally in London (yahhh!) for my master's course in 18th century studies at King's College, a dream of place I've long wanted to be. Yet, I cannot help but wince a bit when I think of the awkward journey that got me here, one which both amuses and infuriates me if I dwell too hard on it. First, when travelling alone, ladies do appreciate a man's help in lugging our bags, i.e. putting them overhead on the airplane. However, this unfortunately seems to be a dying art with men complaining of things like "back injuries" and "sore hamstring". These are the same men who think nothing of lifting what appears to be a five-pound sandwich into their mouths with their fat fingers and throwing back a pint of beer during a football match. Second, these same men make travel painful because of both their girth and sense of entitlement, the latter of which is the infuriating part (I'm not skinny, so forgive them their extra poundage). I am talking a

Note from 2020: The following was written in September, 2017. Because of COVID-19 Arlington National Cemetery is presently closed, except for family pass holders who must wear a mask and only visit a gravesite (no touring). OK, so I finally made it to Arlington Cemetery, and though it's no longer summer (sorry!) it feels like it - 85 degrees with a nice Big Easy kinda humidity today. Perfect for touring the nation's preeminent and sacred cemetery dedicated to our heroes, the fallen from wars dating back to the mid-19th century as well as retired members of the Armed Forces. My favorite stop this morning was, undoubtedly, at the JFK gravesite. I had forgotten that our nation's 35th president was buried alongside his wife, Jacqueline, and their son Patrick. I had no idea that there would also be a gravesite for the baby that was never born. Very sad. According to Arlington Cemetery: "On Dec. 5, 1963, the two deceased Kennedy children were reburied in Arlington, Pat

The summer's nearly over so I must scurry to get these last two posts to you. No, I haven't been back to Arlington Cemetery yet, and yes, I know I promised that visit a few blogs ago. I promise it will be the final blog Sept. 20! See, it's easy to get sidetracked in DC, to find new places to fall in love with you never expected would hit you so profoundly. That first happened at Lincoln Memorial, then the Air and Space Museum. Frankly, whenever I've seen the Potomac I've waxed poetic: it's stunning, and reminds me of the history I'm walking on every day, every hour. I urge visitors to Washington to make a bee-line for the National Portrait Gallery / Smithsonian American Art Museum (a name that confused me, because the museums are conjoined like an Oreo cookie.) Reasons are myriad, but if you hurry you'll catch the delicious John F. Kennedy exhibit of photos surrounding both his presidency and the campaign. I particularly delighted in the photos of Nixo

I was supposed to write about Arlington Cemetery in Part 3, but it's been a busy summer between trips out of town (Chicago, New York, Milford, CT), an intense work schedule, and preparing for grad school in a few weeks. So instead, let me tell you about something that happened across America, and which I happened to enjoy if not in "totality" in near totality. The solar eclipse. It was as if the world had suddenly become children again, and our sense of wonder was restored for those precious hours watching the moon slowly cover the sun. I was at my beloved haunt, the Air & Space Museum , where the kind staff handed out free eclipse glasses (Nasa certified!) with no thought of letting anyone go without. Thank you, Smithsonian! So the sight of all these folks looking up in their glasses was a treat, reminiscent of the 60s, when the new space program also inspired a sense of wonder and skyward gazing. I realize I can't recommend coming to DC to watch the ecli