Tag: London

Grad School, Humor, London, Travel

Travel Countdown Kickoff – Dirty Sexy Money

“Money is only a tool.  It will take you wherever you wish, but it will not replace you as the driver.”
– Ayn Rand

Alright, minions, so you want to live/go to school in a foreign country (or in my case a “foreign” country, emphasis on the air quotes)?  Where to start?  The answer, as it so often is: It’s About the Money, Stupid.

Know your numbers, research them exhaustively.  Are you going to be able to work?  Do you have to show any amount of money in order to get a visa?  How do you plan on financing your jaunt abroad?  Where will that financing come from?  Living expenses, travel expenses, school expenses, and of course the all-important play money, all of this has to be taken into account.

If it seems daunting, good.  Know exactly what you’re getting into.  I’ve had friends who have bankrupted themselves with studying abroad and just-for-fun travel because they failed utterly to examine what they were undertaking financially.  Even good, lovely, enriching, and personally fulfilling things cost money sometimes, kittens, and only a fool jumps in without a few honest conversations with themselves.

Money makes the world go round, and you go round the world if you're smart about it.

When J. and I were discussing whether or not to go to the UK for school, we had to take a lot of things into account, but the biggest factor was money. We ultimately decided that the prestige of the school, the benefits of international education in an increasingly globalized world, and the (we admit) awesomeness of the opportunity were worth the debt. We always knew we’d have to take out loans for grad school, but going abroad means we’ll be taking on nearly three times as much…and we did not do that lightly. J.’s program is only one year, if it had been more , in all likelihood we would have chosen a US school. Yes, I would have pouted for a few minutes, and then got to work financing that move instead. I’m a do-er.

So, when you’re looking at traveling or studying abroad, be honest about your expectations and resources.  It’s possible to go on very little money, just as it’s possible to spend several times more than you anticipated if you don’t have a plan.  So formulate one.
  1. Do your research, find out exactly what financial requirements you will need to meet academically, for travel, for living, for personal expenses (like food.  Food is important, do NOT forget to factor in food.  I had a good friend do this and did she feel sheepish eating nothing but digestives for days at a time!), and play.
  2. Make sure, after you tally this number, that you account for a little extra.  Murphy’s Law of Travel will mean that accidents and setbacks will occur occasionally, be prepared to meet them.
  3. Know the exchange rate!  When Kiri, Marie, Eliza, AbFab, and I all joined forces living in London, we knew that everyone was more expensive than it looked (a £10 burger actually meant that we’d spent closer to $20 [USD] on our bank statements).  Thus we ate out smartly.  Some of our compatriots ran out of money by foolishly forgetting to convert currencies before impulse purchases.  Learn from their fail, minions.
  4. Secure your finances and funding in good time, last minute scrambles could result in deportation, ending up on the wrong continent, or academic-induced starvation.
  5. Do not, under any circumstances, enter into debt without a game plan of how to get out of it quickly, intelligently, and without damage to your credit score!

Alright, turtledoves, sound off!  What other tidbits can you offer for the would-be scholar/traveler abroad when it comes to financial planning?

Grad School, Humor, London, School, Travel, University

Let’s Move

“If I’ve been here a long time, I think: I must go to London and speak to someone or see a bus.”
– Julian Clary

As a result of our recent announcement (to recapitulate: LONDON!), and as you have probably rightly assumed, we are going to be busy for the next few months.  Saving money, getting visas, selling most of what we own, packing up what’s left – horrifyingly, delightfully busy.  Travel junkie and pro that I am, I’m already straining at the lead to get started.

And so, we’re going to be having a theme here at Small Dog Inc. for the next 3 – 4 months: upping sticks.  We’ll be talking paperwork, packing, selling stuff, and about adventures abroad (past and future).

As you may recall, I’ve rather extensive experience in the matters of cross continental hops, but why shouldn’t you get to participate in the fun?  Vicariously, I mean, I would never ask it of you to haul furniture and sort kitchen utensils!  I have better uses for such lovely minions as yourselves than manual labor.  In fact, here’s an assignment, email me your travel tips and misadventures starting now, everyone’s invited to this blog party and I want to feature you and your good ideas and stories.

So sit back and enjoy the fun, my darlings!  I’m going to be asking your opinions on many things so do participate.  I will even try and get some of my mates to do guest posts about moving and their adventures abroad.  And when the boxes tumble and crush me, all of the appliances break last minute as we are trying to sell them, the car needs last minute repairs that wipe out our savings, and the locusts eat all our crops, you will be the first to know.

Grad School, Humor, London, Travel

Unconditional Offer

“Curiosity may have killed the cat but it sure has earned a lot of people graduated degrees.”
– Robyn Irving

By artist Blanca Gomez. Click for more of her charming work. And yes, you better believe I bought one for myself!

It’s official!  Barring misfiling of paperwork, collapse of government, and/or the continual eruptions of Icelandic volcanoes…we are going to the U.K. for grad school!  We got an unconditional offer in the mail yesterday, and J. is in at the London School of Economics!  Let me tell you, just when I think that man can’t get any more impressive…he rises.

A part of me is sad, we had several offers and many of them would have taken us closer to family and friends (now I must wait even longer to try Janssen’s various and impressive selections of homemade ice cream)…but a bigger part of me is selfishly thrilled.  We get to have one last adventure before we “grow up” and I get to go home.

I’ve been homesick for England for years now and it’s almost surreal to realize we’ll be going back.  After getting home from visiting my parents over Christmas two years ago, as you may recall, I had a minor breakdown and J. promised that someday he would get me home.  And, behold.  He’s actually been pretty smug about it, saying he’s off the hook now in our marriage for at least a decade.  But Scarlett pointed out that he’s actually set a dangerous precedent for himself as it regards me: all major wishes fulfilled within two years, guaranteed!

Information forthcoming, darlings, as my entire focus is going to be on our move this Fall, so watch this space.  And for the record, any and all of you are welcome!  Come and visit!  You can sleep on the floor of our studio flat (heck, if we really like you we’ll even give up our bed for you!) and we’ll take you around the city.  I’ve got a great crepe place you need to try, plus the best cheese shop in the United Kingdom.  We’ll catch a couple shows in the West End, or even just find a nice patch of sun in Hyde Park and gossip before taking afternoon tea together.  And yes, I am serious.  You are expected.

Life

A Foggy Day in…

“As to London we must console ourselves with the thought that if life outside is less poetic than it was in the days of old, inwardly its poetry is much deeper.”
– Goldwin Smith

Outside it’s gray and misty, but with the unmistakable green tinge of bursting leaves.  Still a little hesitant, but very much there.  Which invariably makes me think of London for some reason.

Print by artist Blanca Gomez
Family, Holidays, Home, Marriage, Travel

This England!

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,—
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
– Shakespeare

So!  Flew in to Heathrow on the morning of Christmas Eve, met at airport by Dad and Snickers, drove home to Suffolk.  Day spent hugging, talking, and trying to stay awake.  Christmas Eve feast was superb.  Went to bed.  Woke up Christmas morning (siblings showed infinite patience and let us sleep in longer than I’d ever imagine they’d be able to) and tore into both presents and breakfast.  Rest of day spent in rest and relaxation.

The adventures begin on December 26th, also known as Boxing Day.  It’s part of the Christmas holiday in England and most people keep holiday hours on it, but this was the day chosen to go to London to show J. the sights.  We checked online and it appeared some things would be open, so off we went.

Mum, left in red. Me, middle in red. Gio, right of me in red. Dad, right of Gio in red. Buddy...in black. Snickers, hidden. J., behind camera.

Never trust the internet.  The Tower, which really is the historical base of the city (thanks, William the Bastard/Conquerer) was closed.  Luckily Westminster Abbey was open.  Some of you may recall my raptures at visiting it two years ago?  Well, it was nothing compared to this time.  I was so obnoxiously happy to be back in England that I had a hyper litany of sheer enthusiasm trilling through my head as I forced myself to walk somberly through its hallowed naves.  The Shakespeare alone was particularly thrilling, I may or may not have muttered the St. Crispin’s Day speech as I meandered past Henry V.  Anne of Cleves got a nod and a, “Well done.  Better off without him.  Much,” Congreve got a cheeky grin, Elizabeth I another critical glance over (still not as pretty as she thought she was).

After Westminster we tried for the Tower but that as you know was a fruitless effort.  So we traipsed across the city!  I didn’t make it over to Kensington where I lived but I did stare longingly at the High Street Kensington and Gloucester Road stops on the Tube for a while.  We walked through Trafalgar Square (scene of many a late night revel with Marie, Elizabeth, and AbFab so long ago), made our way to Leicester Square where, completely out of other ideas, we massacred three hours by watching Avatar.  An observation: don’t see this movie in 3D from the second row of the theatre.  Your inner ear thanks me.  After that we saw Stomp and made our way home at a ridiculous hour of the evening.

Sunday we tried to recuperate a bit and celebrated Buddy’s birthday with a quiet family evening at home.  The next day we celebrated it by scampering around the misty wet fields with nearly fifty people, shooting each other with paintballs.  I had only been paintballing once before and been shot in the mouth, so I didn’t have a high opinion of the activity (this time I was shot at point-blank range while guarding a little girl, but it was during our mad dash for glory in a game of capture the flag and we were welcomed to the splotched sidelines like heroes).  The boys loved it.

No, it's not the camera angle, the house really looks like that.

Tuesday we went to Lavenham, which is without question the most charming country village outside of the Lakes District.  I’ve written about it before, but allow me to gush a little bit more!  It’s just delightful, the crooked Tudor houses always make me grin like an idiot.  I rummaged through my favorite antique store (trying on an Edwardian hat, drooling over Victorian jewelry, and rifling through letter boxes and cupboards) and we ate lunch at The Swan.

Wednesday J. and I basely ditched the family and hopped on the train from Cambridge back down to London so he could actually see things.  The train was a necessity because, according to the news, a truck of pigs had gotten into a wreck on the M11 and, far from turning the passengers into bacon, a dozen or so had escaped and were wandering across the highway, grazing on things, and generally causing a bad time of it for the drivers who were backed up for hours waiting for the porcine perils to be rounded up.

We hit the Tower and the British Museum.  Going through it was like visiting an old friend.  J. seemed to especially love the awful imperialism it represented.  “I mean, these guys just showed up and said, ‘I like that wall.  I think I’ll take it!'” he said going through the Parthenon exhibit.  During the evening we walked from Tottenham Court Road to Oxford Circus so I could get in some much needed shopping before we made our way back to Liverpool St. and hopped back on the train to Cambridge.  Then, the next day, back to the States.

I’m going to be honest and admit that as we were driving back from J.’s parents house and I was looking across the valley and snow-covered mountains…I burst into homesick tears.  When we got home I was absolutely howling with misery (or lack of sleep, one of the two).  “I want to live two hours outside of London!” I sobbed, “I want to live where it’s green even in the winter!  I hate the desert!  I don’t want to go back to work on Monday!  I don’t want to live here for two and a half more years while you finish school!  I want my dog!”

J. just hugged me and promised to get me back there someday if he could, and he meant it.  I calmed down, went to bed, and woke up feeling alright about leaving England behind for a while.  In the meantime, I’ll just be here.  Missing it.