Not Real Life

The finale of my travels were 2 of possibly the biggest celebrations I have been to.

After exploring London as sufficiently as possible in 4 days, we boarded the train (at King's Cross...where platform 9 3/4 was closed for construction, biggest disappointment ever) for Cambridge. Oli spent 6 years there so knew the ropes and thought May Ball season would be a nice time to see the town. In June (yes, May Ball is in June, you think Cambridge would have it together a bit more than that), every college at Cambridge throws what is essentially a huge black tie, $250 per ticket party. We didn't have tickets or black tie, but after having lunch with some old friends, Oli was convinced we should go. Or, rather, crash.

And so we took a friend's access card, went down to a bike shed in a parking garage, and shoved a heavy concrete block against a door. I was later informed that this door opened to a staircase that led to the outer "court" (Cambridge speak for lawn) of the Ball. When the guards come around to check that the doors are locked, they will push from the other side, and the door, blocked by the cement, will feel locked. Next, we made our way to the town to find proper attire. First stop was the OxFam store, where he bought a really REALLY fly double-breasted black suit for a whopping 12 pounds 50. Next stop was another charity shop where the purchase of a lady's white short sleeve button down shirt totalled one pound. Next door, the joke shop pulled through with an elastic bow-tie. All that was left were the shoes, because clearly navy blue Ked's wouldn't cut it for black tie. We thought that maybe black laces would help, so we went to the grocery store and bought some black socks as well, just for safe measure. However, when simply replacing the laces wasn't sufficient, we had the brilliant idea of just putting the socks OVER the shoes (obviously) and tying the laces around the bottom of the shoe. As you can tell, our slap-dash black tie for under 20 pounds was not too bad.

So after meeting people that had paid for tickets and spent endless time and money on dresses and in front of a mirror, they left for the ball, and we went in to the bathroom of the pub we were in to change in to our formal attire that had spent a few hours shoved into a backpack.

We ventured into the parking garage and bingo, the door into the first court was open. But this was only the first line of security. Our wristbands were checked again, and we were caught. After taking photos of both us and our IDs, we were kicked out...but the door was still unlocked. So mid-fireworks show, back through the door we went. However, this time, the only security past that was a poor little girl working the door alone. Looking very much otherwise occupied on the phone, we walked briskly past her and when she squeaked "wristbands please!" as we ran by, Oli threw up my hand to show the leather bracelet I had recently bought in Croatia that just happened to be relatively similar in width to the wristbands. And we were in.

What a spectacle it was. Stages, bands, lights, food, drinks, people, decor, and everything was free. We stayed until it was light (for the survivor photo) and in typical British fashion, were served biscuits and tea in the Hall (yes, also like Harry Potter). Back on the train it was at 6 am to London. Still in formal wear. The rest of the city was going to work, and we were going to bed.

But, we were going to bed because we had a later train to catch up to Durham, where Oli's family lives. Upon arriving at the cutest house I'd ever seen, we had toothbrushes, soaps and towels laid out for us on the bed like a hotel and a full lunch buffet and tea set up in the perfectly kept garden. Durham is a quaint northern town with all the charm you would expect of a quintessential British city. We rode bikes and walked up and down (and up and down) the hills. I think the best part was definitely feeling at-home again. Plus, the Durham Cathedral is certainly a sight worth seeing (plus, they filmed parts of Harry Potter there, which completely made up for Platform 9 3/4 being closed).

One of the days while in the north, we took another train up to the coastal town of Stathes, where Oli's aunt owns a B&B and beautiful guest house (or, as she calls it, love nest...). Turns out that she used to run an antique store as well, so the entire place was decorated with vintage antiques from all over the world. But before we could enjoy any of this, we hiked 9 miles (literally) in the strongest winds I have ever encountered. The type of wind that you can put all of your body weight in to and stay upright. Utterly. Exhausting. This is not, however, to take away from the breathtaking scenery...I forgot to mention that the entire trail was along the edge of the coast. And the reward for the hike was a huge home-cooked meal of lasagna in the B&B dining room, hot shower, and a cider at the village pub amidst live folk music. Picturesque doesn't even begin to describe this place.

Upon return to Durham, we ventured into Scotland for a day to see the sights of Edinburgh. Oli had been to the Edinburgh Festival (theatre) a few years ago so knew all of the insider spots and streets. And while on my Harry Potter world tour, we saw the pub where JK Rowling began writing her saga. Huge. Edinburgh was a lovely city. Very liveable and lively, while not seeming overwhelming. The day ended with a glimpse of the world cup USA game before heading back to Durham and then to London. (side note-I don't think i mentioned this previously, but that USA-England game that we were supposed to get killed in? We tied. And actually ended up staying in the Cup longer than England.)

After becoming sufficiently relaxed, we left Durham and it was back to London for a day for a final hot shower and night in bed before the extravaganza that was Glastonbury...