DAY 184
One thing that I’ve recently discovered about myself is that I am a terrible planner. Okay, I guess I’m not so bad at the planning once I’ve got the backbone, but starting from scratch is not my thing. I guess I’m like that in a lot of ways. I don’t want to go running…but as soon as I’m out there, I have a grand old time. I don’t really like planning dinner, but I have no problem jumping in where someone else left off. I can’t stand making outlines for writing papers (rather just start writing to get something written, then go back and edit the hell out of it).
Planning trips (or holidays) seem to be the same way. I am going to England in April, and I am pretty thrilled about that. I’ve got the flight tickets booked, I’ve got a place to stay, and…well…that’s about it. I did buy a book on England at the used bookshop for $2. And it’s got all these colorful (colourful!) post-it notes stuck inside now. And I’ve made plenty of lists in brightly colored pens, I’ve asked way too many Brits for advice. I’ve looked up train timetables, I’ve started using Google Earth as if my life depended on it, I’ve read Wikipedia articles galore. Have I got anything definitive planned out? Eh, not really.
I set aside a good bit of time over the weekend to do some planning, even made a cup of tea, found my old map of the rail system, attacked my new notebook with colored pens, made a very artsy-looking to-do list, leafed through the England guide for a bit, looked up train schedules from Bournemouth to even freaking place in the south of England, heck I even rummaged through the desk drawers and located my old Bath cellphone (long dead of course) as a sort of inspiration…and then promptly gave up about twenty minutes in. Basically, just long enough to make this mess of my desk. So I decided to start documenting my “struggle” with my camera–a far superior use of my time.
I just started reading Bill Bryson’s Notes From A Small Island, a hilariously funny American writer who moved to Britain as a youngster, and lived there for years and years. When he and his wife decided to go back to the States, he traveled around England via public transport, and wrote a book about it. Now, since the book was published in England, everything is written/spelled the English way. (The ones published in America are obviously spelled the American way). And it’s not just his spellings, but even his sentence structure is undeniably British (yes, they talk differently than us). Now, did he originally write it the American way, and some guy sat there and changed it to the British version, or did he use his adoptive country’s spelling and grammar? Perhaps we’ll never know. But either way, it’s funny, not only because “curb” becomes “kerb” and “tire” becomes “tyre” and there’s an unusually high amount of u’s and s’s added throughout, but because I get all the jokes! Him recounting the long-winded discussions between two guys in a pub, or the ridiculous way the Brits drive (not just talking about the other side of the road either, they just don’t know what a straight road is. And then there’s their fascination with roundabouts…), well, I remember all these things. So I laughed twice as much. But it worked!
After my mini photo shoot, I sat down, read a bit more Bill Bryson, laughed until I started snorting, and then went back to the planner, back to Google Earth, and started to make another list.
Not done with the planning yet, but okay, I feel like I’ve gotten a little closer. And even more excited to be stepping out of that airplane in Heathrow and onto that train heading to the south coast, even more excited to get off that train at Bournemouth, and run out into the brilliant (okay, probably raining or overcast) English world at full speed to start 9 wonderful days in my favorite country. Oh, I can’t wait!
One thing’s for sure…no career as an events planner or a travel agent in the near future.
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