CAMBRIDGE

     The recurring theme of this blog should be "I can't believe I made it," prefaced with, "there's no way I'm going to make it," finalized with, "I made it... how did that happen?" The dream of coming to Cambridge started way back in 2010, but was postponed when a sister's wedding (it was worth it Lizzy!) and an internship in Washington D.C. conflicted (the food made it worth it). But here I am, miraculously sitting in an old man's room in Pembroke College, staircase N (there are 5 sets of swinging doors I walk through, and two staircases). This morning started off nice enough, I was in Reading staying with dear Kimber and Julian Jest, and their bouncing baby boy Owen. I attended sacrament meeting in the Reading ward with Tony and Margaret Jest, Julian's parents, and then came home to take the 12:30pm train to London Paddington. I arrived in England three days prior with three giant suitcases and a carry-on, and a laptop bag, and a "personal item"(yes I admit it, it is a purse). I finagled my belongings down to one giant bag, one small North Face bag, the laptop case, and yes, the purse (I promised Kimber I would also study at Cambridge the art of packing, light). I boarded the train at Reading West at 12:30pm and 5 minutes later arrived at Reading station. When the train started again, to my dismay, it went back the other direction. So after another 5 minutes I was back at Reading West. I decided to get off, confused that London would not be found at the end of the line near Basingstoke. I will cut to the chase, because here is where I'm already a poor story teller: I left my North Face bag on the train! And it went to Basingstoke! Luckily, after about 30 minutes I noticed the same bald conductor man in the same train going the opposite direction (towards Reading Station), and I waved at him from across the platform (Kimber had advised me to chase the bag to Basingstoke, hence, I had switched sides of the track). As his train pulled away I quickly and frantically yelled "Ileftmyyellowbagonthetrain!Ineedit!!" And he said the train would come back on my side and I could have a look (there was a lot of pointing, him at me, him at the platform, me at him, me at the station, and more me at the ground). So he did come back, or another guy did, so I got on and I found it! The other guy said the bald guy had looked, but unsuccessfully. I still rode all the way to Basingstoke though. Basingstoke wasn't so bad.
     I then rode all the way back to Reading station, changed trains, and made it to Paddington. I had been instructed to check in to Pembroke College's Porter Lodge before 5:30pm in a strongly worded email, so now I was nervous about making it in time. I lugged my ginormous bag and three others through the tube to King's Cross, where I caught a perfectly timed Cambridge express train at 4:15pm. I arrived at 5pm and was met by an old friend from the Stanford 1st ward who is currently attending Cambridge with his wife. He led me to Pembroke College and I checked in, albeit sweatily. I proceeded to King's College Great Hall for a welcome buffet dinner, but managed to pick out two of the BYU students beforehand (can you guess how I spotted them?), so we proceeded together. This evening, the BYU group met Dr. Paul Kerry, intellectual extraordinaire, for a brief tour of a few colleges and a talk in the King's College Gardens, a place I hope to frequent. It stays light until almost 10pm! The other students introduced themselves as did myself, and I was pleased no one made any comments about my strange status as a graduate student. At least I'm not the kid who is coming for the second summer in a row... I resisted my heckling ways in that case. But now I'm more thrilled than ever! The city is magical, (not in a Harry Potter/Hogwart's kind of way, however, we walked past two robemaker shops. Neither were called Madame Malkin's robes for all occasions...) and seems to hold something for me that I will get to uncover soon. This week: orientation, buy a bike??, trip to Scotland, and figure out how I can get my hands on one of those magic keys that open every door.

At 9:45pm on our walking tour with the BYU group, a view of King's College Chapel from the bridge.

Dinner in the garden at the Jest's, Saturday evening before I left.

Welcome dinner in the Great Hall, King's College.