The Travel Journal (part 4)

The big finale to our spring break debacle.

7:45pm 3.22.07

We are sitting in the Noel Coward theater about to see Avenue Q. We bought tickets for the balcony, but when we got here, they upgraded us to stalls! (Good luck? What?) However, the person in front of me is very tall, and I'm contemplating suicide. Boo.

Midnight 3.23.07

Well, I'll begin at the end and say that Avenue Q was incredible. The woman only partially obstructed my view, and the show was hysterical, creative, and a little bit bittersweet. It was one of the most satisfying theater experiences I've had.

Today started off with an interesting bus tour of London, including some great pictures, some rain, and a stop at the gorgeous St. Paul's Cathedral. Then there was the madness of Leicester Square and buying tickets. Lunch in a cute sandwich shop (pricy but good) and over three hours in the National Gallery. I saw half of the paintings/artists we studied in Art History, it was wonderful.

New favorite Monet: The Houses of Parliament at sunset. Favorite thing altogether? The eight small Seurat studies that showed his experimentation, which lead to the development of pointilism. Also the Bather's painting. Biggest disappointment? Finding out that La Grande Jatte was in Chicago and I missed it. Still I had an incredible, awe-inspiring time.

After this we met up with the group (The Alex City kids spent the entire day at the Hard Rock Cafe and looking for clubs) and had really good Indian food. Then there was the Q. As I've already said, it was wonderful. We took the Tube home, really excellent. That has to be one of the most efficient ways to travel. Tomorrow is a completely free day, and though I know that we can't do everything, I plan to have a fantastic time.

Oh, also today someone from EF came to talk to our teacher. I really hope we get partial reimbursement. We deserve it. On that note, I'm a little bit worried about the money situation, I haven't really kept track. As much fun as I'm (finally) having, by and large, I really just want to go home.

12:30am 3.24.07

Today at 5:45am) we get to go home. I just talked to mom and cried, I couldn't help it--I'm so happy to leave.

This past morning we woke up to find out that two girls on a completely separate tour in the same hotel claimed they were raped by two of the Alex City boys. They revealed this to a member of our group, meaning several of us had to give statements and be questioned (not me, thank God). This morning we went to the Tower of London, but I was so numb to it--all I remember was right before we saw the crown jewels this video of Elizabeth's coronation. She looked so beautiful and also scared and sad. But we had to stay in the gift shop for two hours while they questioned one of us. It was sickeningly stressful for all.

We saw those boys as being stupid and inconsiderate but not as monsters who (allegedly) raped 14 and 15 year old girls. I don't even want to think about it. Once all that mess was dealt with, we went to see the Globe (getting fairly lost along the way) and took a lot of pictures (not enough time or money to take a tour). Then to Leicester square for tickets to the Woman in Black and on to dinner. We had quite good fish and chips (I'm so glad we're past the peas and carrots stage). However, one of our group members had a total breakdown during dinner. It made me really see what this trip has done to us, both physically and mentally. We went and saw the play which was excellently acted, and then came back to the hotel to get packed up. I'm going to try to get some sleep before we're forced on a plane.

9:32am 3.24.07

We sit in Heathrow airport again, but at least this time we have seats to sit in. The rapists from Alex City posted bail and are going home, though police investigation will continue. Our flight is at eleven, but we've been here since seven in the morning and they've yet to post our gate. We're sitting (some people miraculously can sleep) in the holding area surrounded by bustling crowds of people. But again, at least we have seats.

9am 3.25.07

I am home.

As you can imagine, it was quite the trip of a lifetime, in many many mixed ways. It took several weeks before any of us started to act or feel normally, and telling the story was little help. Mostly we wanted sympathy, but no matter how we expressed the events, the emotion was unclear. Then we reached the point where we never wanted to talk about it again. Now, I think, I have made it into a dinner party story in my head, one that I will tell for years--the worst spring break ever. In that way, I think, I am taking the power out of the story and making it my own--my power to wield as I choose.

I will not be beaten down by circumstance--my trip to Oxford this summer remains bright, and it will be. Just the act of putting down the words of everything that happened over spring break was a way I managed to cope--if anything the trip was a testament to the power of the written word.

Not that I needed any more evidence of that.

Molly