Kristy's blog

I was very interested in Cortazar’s Autonauts of the Cosmoroute because of its focus on the journey and not the destination. I forget sometimes that travel includes getting there too and this is definitely a theme we’ve explored earlier in the class. The narrative and how Cortazar addressed the audience (the public) directly complemented the content. He had written this after all for the public to read. At times, he would address the audience directly, such as in the beginning when he caught the reader thinking of how much has been written and the journey on the freeway (excuse my California vocabulary) had not yet began.
 
Cortazar also advised the reader, if you call it advice. He made funny social quips, some in reference to the unanswered letter in the first few pages of the reading. This made the narrative seem conversational and not so much as a journal or notebook form like Phillip’s piece.
 
In addition to the style of writing, I was drawn to the determination of the couple to embark on this odd, yet daring, journey through France. He said, “No journey, no matter where, no work, nothing would keep us from doing it.” Even without a reply from the company they had written to, the two went for it anyway. That set the tone of the rest of the piece as adventurous and almost lighthearted. I liked how he threw things in like a list of foods they brought and how his wife had tried every stall in the women’s restroom at a rest stop and determined that they were all equally efficient. I found that humorous and related more to the authors, who were almost more like characters.
 
It was interesting to read the travel logs and notes that the two had actually written rather than a well-drafted and final edited version of something to be published. (At least I hope I’m right about the notes not being revised or altered.) I found the notes to be extremely observant in just a few words. This is evident in their description of the hen leaping and imitating the flight of a butterfly. I would never think to compare a hen to a butterfly, but it somehow makes sense in this crazy piece and crazy story.

The earliest section of “The European Tribe” reminded me of Kincaid’s piece. Phillips brought up issues that directly or indirectly resulted from colonialism and oppression, which were topics of Kincaid’s narrative and characteristics of her life in Antigua. Similar to Kincaid, Phillips experienced discrimination and grew angry towards the country whose people did him injustice.  After experiencing racism in the U.S., and promptly leaving the country to return to England, Phillips says, “I spent the last few weeks resenting that it had taken America to make me conscious of my desire to write.” The anger in his narrative voice also resembles Kincaid’s rage and hatred to people who left their homes to colonize hers. Phillips was “mentally shattered” after his visit to the U.S.
 
I found Phillips’ writing poetic and enjoyed the fact that it was a self-proclaimed “narrative in the form of a notebook.” He describes women in Casablanca as, “Women, their faces plastered with rouge as though somebody had slapped them, waited for encounters, unconcerned about the permanence of relationships.” Phillips also describes the people of Casablanca as invisible and soon became anxious to leave the country. His choice of words evokes a sense of urgency amongst readers, who can envision the shanty streets that surround Phillips.
 
His encounters with locals in various places he traveled caught my attention. I felt as though his last story in Oslo with the drunken man unconscious before they threw him out of the bar was almost symbolic of the end of such views. That could be a stretch, but I understood Phillip including this story in his book to be for that message.  Phillip’s thoughts carried this story and I prefer to hear the author’s opinions when reading a travel narrative rather than a more anthropological and neutral way of observing without experiencing. This impacted the story for me more when I heard how surprised he was upon returning to England after a year. The story would have been less effective had he just listed differences. Phillip’s narrative in notebook form is what I consider a true travel narrative complete with the author’s point of view.

I wanted to begin by trying to answer the question of why I travel, since my own experiences are what I can speak best on. I travel because I need a change in setting sometimes and a break from my daily routines. I also travel because I want to experience new cultures and have fun. I'm sure that's why many people travel, in addition to more extreme needs to travel, such as life threatening situations. An overarching theme we explored in class are the orders of tourists, each of which behave in different ways and have different agendas when traveling. 

Before this class, I would have considered myself a second-order tourist. I prefer not to spend time in a new country seeing through the lense of a camera with the sole purpose of posting pictures on Facebook. I was also aware of the first-order tourist, who we often see living in New York. Those who are only interested in seeing the most popular places and "touristy" spots. By the end of this class, I still consider myself a second-order tourist, but have the aspirations of a third-order tourist. I am curious to the perspectives of both the visitor and the native. I've found myself in countless self-awareness problems. In Japan's Narita Airport, there's a noodle shop (one of many I'm sure) that serves Udon noodles, which are broad and served in broth. It's customary in Japan to slurp noodles, but I felt so rude doing it myself. I didn't mind anyone around me, but I was so self-conscious of my behavior and coming off impolite.

What I'm trying to say is, there's such a vast range of standards, perspectives, opinions, and behaviors that mix and collide with each other while traveling, that its hard to distinguish to the point who is or isn't a first, second, third, or fourth-order tourist. It's true that cultures change over time and sometimes rapidly through the use of technology and fewer limitations in the world. What I enjoyed most about this course was the each of the authors shared their experiences and perspectives with us. I wanted to hear more of each person's stories. The readings with the most action and conflict caught my attention the most and throughout this class I've tried to maintain a certain degree of distance from each author so I didn't get too angry with their actions and just tried to get enveloped into their story and experience. 

This class was a great follow-up to taking Art of Travel, while abroad. In this course I was introduced to a vast range of experiences from numerous authors, which brought about an interesting mix of themes. 

 
Kincaid’s voice was powerful and memorable through her use of second person narrative. It was packed with conviction against the actions of the English, who have died long ago with the Antiguan natives they exploited. She describes good people as those who stayed at home in England. Those who did not destroy the old Antigua by committing wrongs and irrevocable bad deeds. To Kincaid, “no natural disaster imaginable could equal the harm they did.” Her narrative is full of anger that resonates trust and credibility. She says, “Let me show you the Antigua that I used to know.” This isn’t a rant, it’s a conviction from a native who experienced the injustices and effects of colonialism.
 
She said the worst thing the English did was “cut out our tongues.” I interpreted this as a metaphor because she then goes into further detail about the irony behind her ability to speak solely English, the very language the criminals spoke and inflicted upon Antiguans. Last semester, I read Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, which captured the beginnings of colonialism from a native’s point of view. The protagonist of the story is named Okonkwo, a strong warrior and respected clan leader, who (spoiler) commits suicide when the introduction and unwanted presence of missionaries becomes overbearing. However, it’s not the story I want to focus on, rather than the author himself.
 
Achebe received an early education in English in Nigeria, but grew up with both village traditions and signs of colonialism. He chose to write in English because he believed this would amplify his message the most. He wanted to tell the people who exploited his culture how wrong they were by telling them in their own language.  It’s interesting that Kincaid considers her use of English to be a shameful thing and a mark of the criminals.
 
Her perspective as a native put into light many of the readings we have read so far from a tourist’s point of view. She describes, “Poor natives who envy the tourist’s ability to leave your own banality and boredom…they envy your ability to turn their own banality and boredom into a source of pleasure for yourself.” This contributes to the recurring subjects of tourist and native conduct and rationale.   

Mahoney’s goal in Egypt was to row down the Nile. In order to do so, she had to secure a small rowboat and get herself through the 120 miles from Aswan to Qena. Her determination came as a surprise because I would probably give up after talking to the 10th person who refused to lend me their boat. (I think she talked to over 20 captains and boat owners). Her motivation became a bit clearer when she stated, “It is frightening yet also liberating to admit a force far greater than our own.” This was in reference to how small one can be in comparison to the bigger picture and grand scheme of things.
 
I found it interesting that the largest obstacle she faced was cultural based on the conviction that “Egyptians know far better than you do on what’s good for you.” I faced a similar situation when I visited my family in China. Women in the salons asked me several questions about my appearance without hesitation. Why are you so tan? Have you tried a milk wash? Have you seen a doctor about this? Growing up in California, I was at the time much tanner than a girl native to the city. This was perceived as unusual since lighter skin is desired. Unlike Mahoney, I did interpret these questions as an insult and considered it rude.
 
Looking back on this experience now, I understand it was cultural difference that could also be interpreted as a sign of help and care from the ladies that asked. I was especially reminded of my experience in China when Mahoney came across the man who stated, “But our way is the right way, it is in the Koran.” When traveling to another country, we need to respect that country’s culture and the beliefs of the people whether or not we agree with them. Mahoney naturally asked the man questions and unfortunately offended him, but I’m glad to see she didn’t try to force her beliefs on him and she recognized the fact that it’s no use to try and do so.
 
I feel as though there should be a universal code amongst travelers that requires respect from both the traveler and the native. Though that may be a bit hard, since who deserves respect is up for debate, such as foreign women in Egypt who dress in a provocative way. They are seen as “fair game for harassment and disrespect.” Maybe sometime in the future cultures will evolve to develop a tolerance or blind eye to these things…or maybe not. 

I enjoyed reading the sections of Morris’ travel writing that describe the fears of traveling alone. I have traveled on my own before and at times experienced similar feelings of vulnerability. That may have less to do with me being a girl and more with the fact that I’m just really afraid of the dark, being chased, and being chased in the dark.
 
While reading Morris’ account on how she felt walking through a narrow alley, I thought of one particular experience in Paris. I missed the last metro and had to exit the station to grab a cab. There were none in sight and the few people who also left the station had disappeared down various streets. I didn’t have a map and my phone wasn’t working. With no clue on where I was, but I knew where I had to go (District 13 – no relation to The Hunger Games). A waiter locking up a restaurant directed me down an empty street. I remember walking as quickly as I could and trying to forget that I recently watched Taken, but half hoped Liam Neeson would jump out of a window and take me home safely. I made it back in one piece, but that sense of panic arose from traveling alone.
 
I appreciate Morris’ views and her commentary on her surroundings, since this is after all, her story. I even found some parts a bit humorous and tried to understand why she picked those particular points to include. There was the humor of the street sign with the silhouette of a full-bodied woman that said “dangerous curves” and the irony of the random Olympic sized pool with no house because the owner could not afford to build one.
 
Besides the random bits that I (and probably I alone judging from the number of haters out there) found funny, I thought the topic of a woman traveling alone was interesting. Also, it’s important to note that her title is a memoir of “a woman,” which means this is her story in her voice and probably isn’t meant to reflect the views of all women. Because this is her personal story, I enjoyed her piece.
 
 
 

After reading The Songlines, I definitely got the impression that Arkady is a fourth-order tourist. It feels wrong to even call him a tourist, since he has gone native to such an extensive degree. Arkady has formed relationships with natives and become an expert on the culture. So much so, Chatwin’s sister refers Arkady to Chatwin because Arkady would help him reach his goal while traveling.
 
That goal is to come to Australia to learn from himself and not from other men’s book. What he learns is presented to us through a narrative that details each of his experiences that bring him closer to his answer. This reminded me of Theroux’s focus on getting there. I felt as though I understood Chatwin’s goal and what he took away from the overall experience because he presented each of those experiences to us and built upon them to inform the reader.
 
Chatwin’s stories about each experience contain a wealth of information that introduces various perspectives and aspects of the Aboriginal culture. I googled what a honey ant looked like to get a better sense of imagery. (I can understand why Mrs. Lacey and other Australians have eaten them before.) The detailed account of Arkady’s friend selling his painting to Mrs. Lacey at her bookstore and the whole exchange between the visiting couple during closing hours brought the situation to life. Chatwin passed on what he learned from that interaction, which he barely took part other than as an observer, by recording the interaction through his travel narrative.
 
In other words, I was just as clueless as the wife interested in the painting when it came to the external homes and Aboriginal customs regarding their animals. All of these bits of information on how one person determines what another is allowed to paint or eat ties into the bigger picture of understanding the songline. As Chatwin stated in the beginning of the reading, ‘”To exist’ is ‘to be perceived.’” Arkady agreed with him, but also added that it was much more complicated than that.
 
It was interesting to learn about the culture the same way Chatwin did. When he listened the painter explain what the large blue circle meant to the tourists, he picked up that same information. I enjoyed the way Chatwin told us the story of his experiences to arrive at the knowledge base that he has. 

One of the first things Theroux states in his introduction is, “The real heroes of travel seldom write about their journeys.” Although Theroux gives credit to true adventurers and explorers, he doesn’t help his own case. While reading the rest of The Old Patagonian Express, I felt as though Theroux’s narrative contained enough self-importance to cause a distraction.
 
He often came across as above the people and places he described in his travel writing. It was a bit harsh and simple minded of him to characterize an underdeveloped city the way he does. He writes, “When you look down, all you see are rats.” Focusing on the negative aspects of a destination is the easy way out. Was it beneath Theroux or too difficult a challenge to search for the greater aspects of the city? Or would he even find anything to appreciate in the culture since his focus was on getting there? He even states, “Travelers are optimists, or else they would never go anywhere.” This infers if travelers’ expectations of going places are often better than what they experience, which is a theme we have explored so far in class and is something Theroux believes, as evident by his condescending descriptions of his surroundings.
 
Theroux explains his negative approach by using an example of how to define a good flight. Since there isn’t much to a flight, one can only describe the good by negatives (The flight didn’t get hijacked, didn’t crash, etc.). I took this approach into account when trying to understand Theroux. He wanted to write the ultimate book about “getting there.” I definitely believe a person’s experience while traveling can affect his or her experience at the destination, so it was interesting to hear his perspective. Although it was something new to me, I had had enough of Theroux’s interjections and thoughts.
 
I enjoyed Orwell’s stories much more because he struck a balance between including his own opinions and presenting the events. Also, Orwell’s agenda included surviving and not trying to be a hero.
 
 

In the very beginning, Paul Theroux mentions Bowles’ preference of the circus, a café and fiesta to a cathedral, monument and museum. This made me think, “Well, what’s the difference?” Bowles enjoys events, in which people are the main spectacle. Think of the actions of watching circus performers, engaging in conversation or people watching at a cafe and then participating yourself in a fiesta. Compare that to the main inanimate attractions of a cathedral, monument and museum. You’re looking at what people have created, which bores Bowles.
 
People are the subjects of Bowles’ travel writings. He states there’s nothing he enjoys more “than reading an accurate account by an intelligent writer of what happened to him away from home.” What is the difference between something happening to a writer and the writer witnessing something happening? This could get very confusing, but I think it relates back to Orwell, who told us stories of what happened to him, while he was living in poverty. These narratives were the most interesting to me and caught my attention more than Flaubert’s notes on the pyramids.
 
Customs of the culture Bowles immersed himself in dictated the direction of social encounters. When he ran into an acquaintance on a long country road, he politely accepted the invitation to accompany them back to someone’s house. Also, in the Sahara, he learned the Targui moral code and unwritten laws of hospitality. Because these codes forced Bowles into various social settings and into the company of natives, he heard stories, from which he learned.
 
I thought it was such a rich predicament Bowles got himself into in “No More Djinns” when he made the comment about Moulay Hafid (Sultan #1) to his son. By conversing with both the son of the sultan who fed Bou Hamara to the lions and the son of the man ordered to purchase the lions, Bowles was exposed to several perspectives. This relates to another part of Theroux’s introduction when he stated there are several types of the city from different people’s views, all of which Bowles portrays very well, but he prefers his own variation. 

“Many men had to bathe in water where others had washed their feet.” This statement alone is enough for me to stare horrifically at the reading for a good five minutes. Although these accounts are revolting, it’s those kinds of statements about people that keep me interested in Orwell’s story.
 
What captures a reader’s attention almost more than anything: conflict. I was much more engaged while reading Orwell tell stories about his landlord yelling at residents for squishing bugs on the wallpaper or the Rougier couple selling misleading postcard packs than reading Flaubert describe business cards on a monument. Although that was interesting and full of internal conflicts, what would have caught my attention even more would be Flaubert telling a story about how he ran into someone carving his name into the monument and then a security guard stopping him or even himself getting into a quarrel about it. 
 
Stories are a way to structure information. Orwell inserts observations and facts into his stories. His entire book focuses on poverty. What could capture life in the slums better than a narrative account of actual events from actual inhabitants? “Life on six francs a day” seems realistic to us because of Orwell’s narrative voice. He also persuades the reader to believe his stories.
 
“Roughly speaking, the more one pays for food, the more sweat and spittle 
one is obliged to eat with it.” Orwell’s review on the frightening realities of restaurant protocol intrigue us because it’s shocking and horrific. We find it shocking because we believe him and we believe Orwell because he exudes credibility. He has built his credibility on the topic of poverty throughout each chapter. We believe him because this is a life he’s lived and what we read is a first hand account of shocking events. 

This may seem off topic, but I promise it relates to Flaubert…
 
Marketing research suggests one of the reasons why people have a special liking for nostalgia is that our brains are “wired to recall our past experiences as having been far better and more pleasurable than we experienced them to be in the moment” (Martin Lindstrom, Brandwashed)*. This phenomenon is called “rosy retrospection.”
 
Besides indulging in Oriental courtesans, Flaubert had a knack for maintaining relationships with his mother and close friends while abroad. When writing letters home, did he experience rosy retrospection? I'm interested in how he crafted each letter to serve a certain purpose (to comfort his mother or to confide in his friends) and how these letters may have affected his consciousness while traveling. In other words, we know from Flaubert’s own travel notes and letters that he wrote for different reasons, but could he have remembered events differently or described them differently to his audience?
 
It’s no surprise he doesn’t include his experiences with courtesans to his faint-hearted mother who he left behind. He is actually very endearing and caring in his vocabulary, which is evident through the use of “darling” and overall sweet tone. However, just because he omitted certain events in letters to his mother isn’t enough to prove he went through rosy retrospection.
 
Flaubert does mention he was surprised to have seen one new element that he had not expected to see: “the grotesque.” A cudgeled slave, the coarse traffiker in women, and the thieving merchant. He mentioned a less pleasurable experience, but these two sentences are all he dedicates to those descriptions. I often take notes in observation of what I see and what I want to remember later. Could it be that Flaubert’s mind unconsciously filters information, keeping better details and forgetting the poorer ones? He does include poor experiences in his writing, but emphasizes the positive ones by going into detail about how he felt and what sights he saw.
 
Various studies show that people have a strong tendency to recall past events “more favorably after the fact than we did while those same events were taking place” (Lindstrom). This could have happened to Flaubert at various points, while writing his notes at the end of the day recalling past events and while he continued to refer back to his notes and make further revisions. I am fine with not knowing for sure, but I think rosy retrospection is something to keep in mind when we reflect on our own experiences. 
 
* http://www.martinlindstrom.com/brandwashed/

Immediately after reading Innocents Abroad, I thought, “He went to all of those countries for just $1,250?” It’s interesting how much has changed since Twain wrote these chapters and how little has changed on our attitudes and awe towards travel. In terms of technology, I’m positive we won’t find any little printing presses on board a Disney cruise, but rather copies of preprinted daily itineraries for passengers and maybe a Xerox machine or two.  Although technology may have changed, our natural instincts and feelings while traveling have not.
 
Twain experienced the same types of delays that we dread today. He encountered a storm that prevented the ship from sailing the rough seas. Last winter, I faced a snowstorm that grounded my flight out of London for a week. I almost got a bit seasick just reading his description of the choppy ocean and how “one could not promenade without risking his neck.” Even on the largest and sturdiest Carnival cruise ship there are still passengers susceptible to the lull of the ocean and experience illnesses throughout their travels. Despite getting sick, “excursionists” both then and now have the desire to see what one would “naturally wish to see first.”
 
The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, the Bridge of Sighs in Venice, and the Colosseum in Rome are all sights I would naturally want to see first. I remember those being at the top of my list of places to visit when I studied abroad. Why? They’re all the most popular (for a reason, they’re spectacular), which reminds me of last week’s discussion on the value and perception of those who travel. Does snapping a picture in front of Notre Dame mean I’ve experienced Paris? Not for me, but who am I to judge what could be someone else’s dream.
 
Twain depicted cities vaguely familiar to the ones I have visited or have so often heard and dreamt about. I can’t imagine some of his stories happening to me, such as hurrying past corpses on the riverbanks of Paris, being under the blade of a Sweeney Todd in Venice (obviously, because I can’t grow a beard), or seeing children suffering in Syria. At the same time, Twain raised some points that can be applied to/debated about modern travel, such as discovery. Twain defines discovery as the biggest and proudest delight to people. He doesn’t even want to describe St. Peter’s because “it has been done before.”
 
For me, a discovery is unique to each individual, so if I’ve never been to Jerusalem before (which I haven’t) then actually seeing a blade of a crusader or poking a fragment of the genuine Pillar of Flagellation with a stick would be a discovery for me. Last class, opinions on discovery varied from being the first out of a community or the first person ever to be someplace. Regardless of the true definition, if there is one, I appreciate Twain’s attitude while traveling. In Cairo, he wasn’t there to beat anyone to the top and that’s what I believe to be the best attitude while traveling. It’s about you and your own journey at whatever pace you choose. He valued travel as a wild novelty and acknowledged both major perspectives of people affected by travel; “The people stared at us every where, and we stared at them.” These observations remind me of modern travel and how we’ve unintentionally upheld these notions.

Comparing traveling to being in love is an interesting thought because I immediately draw several similarities.  They both give us a “heightened sense of awareness.” What does that mean? Both traveling and love are journeys. Nobody begins a trip or relationship believing he or she will fail miserably. That’s the worst attitude and unlikely considering the natural excitement of traveling and love. Both are rare occasions when the unknown is exhilarating. Being on a flight to a country you haven’t visited before or being on a second date with a new friend. These are events in our lives where we value a clean slate. Learning is actually the fun part and what creates the journey.
 
My state of mind when traveling resembles my feelings during Christmas. Every trip and every holiday is different, but I go into it knowing it’s something to be happy about. This puts me in a great mood, which makes me likely to stay up late, follow impulse and open to new things. I am also much more excited and kinder. That’s one effect of traveling that I definitely appreciate, since routines can be deafening.
 
It’s also interesting to me the role authenticity plays while traveling. When I hear the word “traveling” I think of exploring, but now with the onslaught of technology, social media, and other ever-changing factors, I’m disappointed to acknowledge the fact that exploring now has levels of authenticity. Says who? I recently traveled to Puerto Rico and naturally fell in love with the island. Besides that, I noticed two different tours for the rainforest. One, you booked through the hotel and were taken on a bus to different picturesque points and the other, you booked yourself…grab a map of the rainforest trails and go. I took the bus tour and it immediately seemed less cool than going off on our own. With so many photo ops and such a large audience on Facebook and Twitter, most people were only concerned about pictures rather than the real thing in front of them. It’s as if showing everyone a picture of you there is more important than you being there…which doesn’t make sense.
 
This relates to the orders of tourists (one through four). While reading this excerpt, I couldn’t help but think of examples of each that I’ve encountered while traveling, including the order that I fit in.

1. First Order Tourist: the most “unheroic of tourists”...I immediately think of the typical fanny pack, tee-shirt tucked into high waisted khaki shorts type tourist who believe the main sights are adequate for saying, “We went here.”
2. Second Order Tourist: aware of unauthenticities and experiences shame in being labeled a “tourist”...This is probably me. Of course I don’t want to be labeled a tourist because of the negative connotations, but I define myself this way because of what I am not (I am not a tourist-tourist, anthropologist, or native…therefore, I’m a second order tourist.)
3. Third Order Tourist: has “real” encounter with culture...I think of my Human Evolution professor who spent years in Columbia studying primates. She wasn’t a full native, but she assimilated to the culture in ways beyond someone who simply acknowledged unauthenticities.
4. Fourth Order Tourist: goes native...Johnny Depp in France. 

I just finished my finals and can finally relax. Actually, I can't just yet because I still need to pack, see lots more in London, go Christmas shopping and finally fly home. As our time in London gets shorter and shorter, and my to-do list somehow gets longer and longer, it's hard to think of anything besides how sad I am to leave. I've never been good with "good-bye"s or "final" anythings. London deserves a proper "see you later". 

This class has helped me articulate my thoughts and feelings while abroad. At times, it's kept me sane or it's been a creative outlet for me to get something off my mind. It was also interesting to read what everyone else had to say. I couldn't help, but compare my experience at times, but I've always come to the conclusion that everything worked out. 

Although I love London, I'm ready to go home. Yesterday, I split a bag of British pretzels with my roommate. The pretzels were white and covered with black pepper - the complete opposite of those golden salted pretzels we're used to. We just looked at each other and cried about how much we missed America. I also regret those subtle and minor comparisons made abroad. Of course we'll experience differences, even those of us who chose to study abroad in London, a country seemingly similar to our own (it most definitely is not), will also experience differences. 

At the beginning of the semester, standing in a five inch puddle in London, I told myself I hoped I'd be happy by the end of the semester. Well, it's the end of the semester and I couldn't be more happy with my time here. 

Don't be afraid to be a tourist. Take a break from trying to blend in. It's my last week in London and I still haven't seen Harrods, Platform 9 and 3/4s, or Abbey Road. Most of my friends checked those off their lists during their first week here. 

Visit the British Museum as often as you can. That place is huge and right next to the NYU dorms. I passed it all the time on the way to class and have been inside plenty of times, but I still feel as though I haven't seen it all. The Tate Modern and the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square are also big museums to see.

Join clubs and societies at the local colleges. NYU in London is connected to the University of London Union, which has a wide range of clubs, including football and Harry Potter club. It's a great way to meet some of the local students and see the real city.

Public transportation? Walk. More specifically, epic walks. When we found the time, my friends and I would go on these spontaneous walks around the city. We had no destination, no map, and no idea what we were in for. (Yes, we did this on purpose.) Lucky for us, our dorms are located in central London, which means Big Ben, the London Eye, Oxford St, and other big attractions are only about a 30-45 min. walk away. On one of our first nights in London, we turned a corner and saw St. Paul's Cathedral, a beautiful surprise and awesome place to go, especially at night. The next day, Alexander McQueen's funeral was held there.

If you do choose to take public transportation, then invest in an Oyster card, which you get money back for if you return it. It also offers cheaper fares for buses and the tube. And always sit on the first row of the second floor while taking the bus. Best view and so much fun!

Visit the parks! London is full of green. There are gardens 

Most people think British food is awful. That's because it is. But try Borough Market. This place has all the best ingredients and freshest produce. There's a famous pork belly and apple sandwich (reminded me of Momofuku in New York) and an ostrich sandwich as well. Both are only around 4-6 pounds. 

And most importantly, don't compare it to anything else because it'll be like nothing you've experienced before. Whether you're studying abroad or just visiting, your time in London deserves a category of its own.

(Photo: I took this photo from Trafalgar Square after the first day it snowed.)