High Tide in London

When I've told people about the fact that I'm going to be living in England for six months (followed by an additional eight months in Australia and South Africa), I feel by their enthusiastic reactions that they are expecting that I will have this look on my face at all times while on this adventure:

(This is, by the way, my wonderful and lovely dog, Evie, who, as

it happens, is always excited to get in the car and go.  It might be 

the park, it might be Chicago, it might be South Carolina, and, if 

you know Evie, it's most likely the emergency vet's office.)

The truth is, this is a pretty uncertain thing that I'm doing here, on both a personal and a professional level.  A lot rides on the success of my time in the archives...like, my whole academic career.  And anyone who has had the good fortune to be able to go abroad for a research year will tell you that it can be dreadfully lonely. I've taken some pains to keep from being completely isolated (i.e. NOT living in the attic of some middle-class semi-detached terrace house in Kew), it is still daunting.  

After my first 48 hours in the country, I don't really look much like the above picture.  I look more like this one:  

The first week in a new place, abroad or not, is just exhausting.  I remember this from when I moved to Chicago almost four years ago, the strength of mind and body required just to figure out where the heck to buy a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread, deposit money in the bank, and set up the %#$@*& internet.  Add some significant jet lag, and I'm just one pooped puppy.  

I had an awkward flight this time around...not quite an overnight flight, but not quite a non-overnight flight. Left Charlotte at 11:45 am, hung out in Toronto (just the airport, mind you) for five hours, left Toronto at 6:30 p.m, got to London at around 1:30 am My Body Time, 6:30 a.m. London Time, spent about an hour in line at Customs, and another hour being detained and interrogated by a clueless Home Office agent who told me I should have applied for a student Visa despite it clearly stating that only students enrolled in UK institutions can get student visas AND despite it clearly stating that an American citizen does not need a Visa for stays less than 6 months.  I hit the Piccadilly line just in time for rush hour, spent an hour on the tube trying to keep my luggage from collapsing, spent another half hour rolling around a 50lb piece of luggage whose wheels were strained by the addition of a 40lb duffle bag bungeed to the top, the three or four blocks to my new home, praying to Jesus and TjMaxx that I wouldn't lose a wheel. I nearly broke into song when the lady in reception said that I could take the lift to the third floor (which in British English translates into the 4th floor).  I had been very worried the prospect of a walk-up.  

 I had told myself that if I could wait until 5pm to go to bed, I would be okay.  To that end, I went out in search of a mobile phone.  I walked to the nearest Carphone Warehouse, which was not so near as I had been led to believe, and bought my first ever smart phone (perhaps this deserves its own post, though), and picked up some bread and cheese and water at the Tesco Express, only to find that I didn't have the strength to move another inch. So I broke the budget and took a cab back to The-Centre-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named (what, for anonymity's sake, I shall call the place I am living), and promptly went unconscious for about 5 hours, waking up to nightfall and the sudden urge to be productive and ORGANIZE ALL THE THINGS. 

So now my tides are off, as Barbara Kingsolver once put it.  I spent all day fighting the urge to sleep the day away.  It is high tide in London and I'm in danger of getting swept out to sea.  I'm also desperately trying to stay hydrated despite the terrible drinking water here (maybe this deserves its own post as well).  

But, enough for now.  The sun is finally all the way down and I am perfectly justified in retiring to the comfort of my little twin duvet.  Pictures of my little abode to come.