London Calling Part 1

    Let's get this out of the way because I know you all started singing:

    If you are like me, goals and dreams tend to have their genesis from many sources.  Friends, Teachers, Books, Family, Movies and the like.  During high school, when thoughts of college started to germinate my three requirements were:  1.  Live Away (but not too far).  2.  Coed (I went to an all girls high school for goodness sakes so duh on that one).   3. The school needed to have a study abroad program.  I honestly have no idea how this got into my head.  Certainly it wasn't a priority on the Guidance Counselor's list.  And most certainly not my parents.  Their reaction was "oh sure, great idea".

The HS Grad

   I started going to college fairs and recruitment meetings and if a school did not meet these requirements they were scratched off the list.  My parents urged me to broaden my search but I was fixated.  I needed to study abroad.  And London specifically. 

   Bear in mind at that point in time I had NEVER been anywhere alone.  I didn't go to summer camp, I didn't attend some boarding school in Switzerland.  If I traveled into the city it was always with a parent or friends with THEIR parent.  My parents basically said I would be running away. 

   The college fair circuit continued....SATs were taken (it was like I didn't show up for the math one, but for English I scored close to perfect).

   
     Applying to colleges was way easier back in the day.  I see now what juniors go through and I don't think I could do it again.  My extracurricular activities (sneaking into bars didn't count) were bowling and Captain of the Kick Team (kind of like the generic Disney characters on the Vegas streets, Rockettes style).  My grades were fine and I managed to get into each college I applied to.   Like I said much easier back then.   Only 1 had everything I wanted -- Marist College in Poughkeepsie, NY.

   More on college life later.  This was an amazing school but back in the day was not as well known as it is today.  When my parents said I was going to school in Poughkeepsie everyone thought "wow, she's going to Vassar!?!?!?".  "She's going to West Point?"  "She's going to The Culinary Institute?"  No, the OTHER college in Poughkeepsie.  Going to Marist is one of the best decisions I made....perfect for me and my "I don't know where this came from" idea of going to London.
 

Bon Voyage Party in the Dorm.  Or it could have been any party.  We had LOTS

     Fast forward to the summer following my sophomore year.

     Much to my parents' concern, I'm packing to study in London.  Based on my understanding of abroad programs in modern times, they last one semester and kids go over as a group.  I was leaving on my own for the entire school year.  It's hard to imagine but no cell phones, no SKYPE, no email....for goodness sakes my luggage didn't even have wheels in those days.  And talk about matchy-matchy.   So demure.

     
     And no debit or credit cards.  Just American Express Traveler's checks (Google them kids).

     But I was off.

    I left JFK and everything I knew behind and took off for London's Heathrow Airport.

   
     Once I landed, at 9pm, I needed to navigate my way to a bus that was taking me to the neighborhood where I would be living temporarily.  I knew I would be in for an adventure when I asked the first person I saw "where is the bus to Islington. I need to get to the Angel Station subway stop?"

 
    "Love, the queue is off to the right.  See where that bloke is with the fag and torch? Take the M50 gets you right to the tube"   Translation:  the line for the bus is off to the right where the guy with the cigarette and flashlight is standing and the M50 bus will take you to the subway station.   I immediately stepped off the curb, looked left only to be nearly run over by the car coming up on the right.  "What do you mean they drive on the other side of the road?" I asked the nice kid that yanked me out of danger.  I had a lot to learn.

    What is shocking to me now is that the program DID NOT PROVIDE HOUSING.  I would be set up in a CONVENT then needed to find my own place in the world.   Yep, I had to find an apartment, pay rent.  Rent?  I had no clue.  The convent, full on convent with nuns in habits, had a curfew and communal bathrooms and dining halls. 

    I showed up, met my roommate Patrice and buckled down for a year to be remembered.  And so much more that I couldn't even have dreamt of.  Living in flats, hanging with Punks, seeing bands in their infancy, falling in love, green hair and safety pins. 

    More London calling in a future post!