Three days' charm

Friday's a mess. As much as I'd like to blog about it I actually cannot remember the correct sequence of events, because I really only got an hour of sleep (at most) between 10am NL time and 9:30pm UK time. Whatever span that is...
I can try and jot note it.
Arrival in the UK.
Baggage claim. Realizing, ten minutes off the plane, that I'd left my gloves and hat onboard. Whoops.
Drive to Harlow. Very scenic, very confusing. Sleep a little more... but not much.
Arrival. Heartfelt hellos. Quick tour. Settle in to room. Get layout of campus.
Sign in officially as residents/ students.
Get changed. Make plans to find phonestuffs.
Marquis.
More Hellos
Journey to Tesco.
Getting lost on the way to Tesco.
Finding Tesco.
Not understanding how their phones work.
Getting directions to an actual reliable phone dealer.
Finding phone dealer.
Getting SIM card, balking at how very easy it is. I'll interrupt the flow to point out that I could have bought a phone at the GROCERY STORE, gotten a free SIM by doing so, then topped up my account as I went along while here, activated BBM+ Social networking, for WAY cheaper than it cost me to Jailbreak+Continue to pay monthly BellAliant fees. If ever there was a bloodsucking coorporation that cared nothing about its loyal customers and their convenience, it's BellAliant.
Back to Tesco.
Stock up on Wine.
Campus.
Exhaustion hits like a brick. By the time we sit down for Friday supper in the Caf, I am way gone.. and yet somehow manage to stay awake for...
Hangouts and catch-up chats with classmates in the kitchen.
Marquis again.
More amazing albeit tired chats.
Worst variation of Nachos ever.
Campus.
Unpack, fall assleep by 9:30
Wake up thinking it's the next morning and everyone is going to the kitchen (right next to my room) for breakfast. Walk in to see that it is still night and everyone is coming in with their drunk snacks. It is only 12:30.
Pass out again...

Until Saturday morning, when my wonderful friends had to knock twice to finally rouse my out of bed for our first Orienteering trip to London.

This is my second time in England's expansive capital, and I think the only difference is my personal growth in the subsequent years between then and now. Whole different interests, whole different attitude.

What a town. Or city, if you prefer.

Camden market was visited, things were bought. Pizza was consumed. Yadda yadda... the tube was confusing but got easier as time passed. Like riding a bicycle.

The real highlight came when myself and two classmates sat down in the queue to wait for return tickets to see the hottest ticket in town right now, "Jerusalem".

We started around 3:00 with two ladies already ahead of us. One had been waiting since one o'clock, the other since shortly before us. Apparently this is the norm for must-see productions of this kind, and the stakes were even higher considering this particular gem is a little less than a week away from closing.

Showtime was 7:30pm. The game, it was afoot.

For those of you who don't know, Queueing for returns is when people line up outside the theatre doors in the hopes that someone will return their ticket for the upcoming days' performance. Usually people don't return 'till the last minute, but obviously you want to be as far in the front as possible because there is never any kind of guarantee of any tickets at all for the night's sell-out show. So on this brisk London day, the three of us (soon thereafter joined by a fourth) plunkered down to take the chance of seeing it... or not seeing it, a completely plausible outcome. We took turns standing in line or exploring in shifts, never leaving less than 2 behind - usually 3. I'm not sure how unique this experience of London was, but for my first day (and potentially my first play) I wouldn't have had it any other way because in such a constantly moving city, I witnessed so many and so much from this limited vantage point. I could have read, but instead we talked and watched as the bustle hustled past us.

Truly amazing. Try it sometime.

The queue grew steadily behind us to include another 8 or so people with the same aspirations as us. As the time grew closer we began to devise contingency plans to see other plays, juuuuustincase it didn't work out. Lucky for us there are plenty more great pieces playing around any corner in the West End, and I was totally fine with seeing any one of them. I might have even tried my hand at the VUE's IMAX. That's the luxury of London, so far as I can tell right now... always another option around the corner. A plan is appropriate but you can always deviate.

Come 7:00, and the returns begin to arrive. The first was not actually from the theatre, but from a man who personally went directly to the first person in the Queue and offered her the seat himself. That seemed like such an amazing gesture to me.

Then another; the lady directly before us was so ecstatic when the box-office attendant came out holding the piece of paper, we were all agreed that it didn't matter whether we saw the show or not because the experience was enough.

Then we came up with an order of priority, just in-case.
Because I took first shift in the line I was told to take the first to come out, but I figured that at 7:10, if any more came out that would be it. I wanted to share this experience, and waiting again come Tuesday or Wednesday was entirely OK. So Margaret went first. Then Samuel, then myself, then Melissa.

Around 7:15, a ticket came for Margaret. Baclony, second from the front. Prime spot. Hugs, and she was off.

More time passed. 7:20, and the attendant walked up with not one, but two more tickets. Samuel and I were in. A heartfelt 'good luck' to Melissa and we entered, paying the outrageous price without consideration, and descended to the entrance, and ending up in our seats at the back of the stalls.

Around 7:27-- after the bells, minutes before the play began, we spied Melissa running in behind a woman. She'd made it, and landed a pretty wicked spot closer to the front than us. Turns out this lady's friend hadn't arrived, so rather than let the seat go to waste she'd checked the Queue same as the first man. Melissa was the last person to make it in from that line up.

We all got in.

Show ends, and We make our way back to Liverpool Station all by our lonesome, successfully navigating the tubes in time for the second last train heading north to Harlow.

Amazing night, to say the least.

Reconnect with Margaret (who had made her own way back) and discuss the play.

Sleep.
Sleep in, in fact. Breakfast at the Marquis, grocery shopping, then it's into the schoolwork- re-reading 'Scorched', finding a monologue for tomorrow's Masterclass... and now.

A review of 'Jerusalem' will come shortly.

And apologies for being so vague in this post, but I tried to cover a lot and couldn't remember a lot. Should be fresher from now on.




Also, Soy Chocolate Milk is quite good. I recommend it.