Menlo-Hartklop

Menlo- Engels toer na Engeland!

Ons Engels (Huistaal)-leerders het pas teruggekeer van 'n heerlike toer na Engeland om alles waarvan hulle leer, van Shakespeare tot by die Ierse legendes, te gaan ontdek. 

Hier is die heerlike dagboek-inskrywings van drie van ons toerlede.

• FRANCO'S DIARY

  Fri. – 27 Jun.: Bridging the Gap

   There are these tiny boats dotted all over the river Cam and under the several bridges which give Cambridge its name, called punts. Since it’s a student town, when punters punt their punts under a certain bridge, the academically inclined inhabitants of these parts can pull the punting pole up for sports and leave the punter posted up a river without a paddle. We saw the Mathematical Bridge – one rumoured to have been built without nuts or bolts, but only through the application of mathematics and hope. Futhermore, Barry was on a mission to put stickers from every town onto his bag, but sadly, this was the only place on the entire tour which sold stickers. It was evident how much history we experienced being made. For instance, what were the chances of us being at the University of Cambridge during graduation? Michiel not only pointed out how the procession impeded our access to the King’s College Chapel (in an Italian / South African Indian accent), but also that there was a statue that he couldn’t locate presently, though he was “pretty sure that it was of Henry VIII”.

   Sat. – 28 Jun.: Walking over Dead

  While walking in the streets near the Thames surrounding the YHA (pronounced yah-ha!) or the Youth Hostel Assossiation, we perceived a rather headless wig lying on the sidewalk in front of some fortunate person’s house. “Nou is dit eers ‘n shady area,” remarked Mia. We visited Westminster Abbey – a very grave place. From the bus, ms Claassen pointed out the Millennium Tower and London Bridge (the one that keeps falling down) as well as the Gherkin, which was mostly referred to as The Bullet, Rocket or Cucumber at first. In the replica of the Globe, there were various Shakespearean merchandise: a rubber marked “Out, damned spot!”, a wallet labelled “There is money; spend it, spend it;”, a “Will Power” and a “Groundlings, proudly standing since 1599” shirt along with Shakespearean Star Wars plays {correction: they were at Shakespeare’s house not the Globe}. Puns were made. The actors dyed their hair with arsenic “... and then died on stage”. The monarchy didn’t like the brothels “... so it was curtains for them”. Apparently, I work there now. It was such a busy day, so I was glad that in the afternoon we could scope the Royal Observatory where I literally bought some time which was useful, as the murder mystery “The Mousetrap” was as timeless as it was advertised. 

   Tue. – 1 Jul.: Bed, Bath & Beyond

  As we strolled through Bath this morning, we could soak in the clean, bubbly atmosphere that evaded many of our travellers the previous night on their trek – they must’ve felt drained. I thought it was nice to give our bus driver a break too. We often speculated in Afrikaans what he must’ve thought of his passengers as we were the type of people who held competitions to see who could hold their breaths the longest while we drove through a tunnel, shouted Starbucks everytime we saw one and commented on names such as Plewlandcroft street, “The Really Good Gift Shop Company” or “Chang’s Noodle”. Still, I (and eventually even ms. Claassen) tried Starbucks and it was as good as they said it would be. 

   On our way to Oxford, we passed the majestic Cotswolds and the Uffington White Horse – an equine image made with chalk deposits. Now the town got its name from  enclosing a ford which oxen could... ford, but it’s also known as the place that inspired Lewis Carrol to write Alice in Wonderland and the city of dreaming spires. Speaking of inspiration (ha ha ha), the Long Hall in Harry Potter is a larger copy of the dining hall in Christ Church. Coincidentally, a circular reading room is named the Radcliffe Camera. When we arrived in Birmingham, a city which retains some of the Industrial Revolution, our tour group agreed in unison, that free wifi and a big screen for watching football made up for any other shortcomings that the Backpackers’ might’ve had. Finally, we experienced the UK in its least superficial way – by dining close together on the pavement. Our supper was very delicious, by the way, and I can testify that there was no burning ham in Birmingham.

• MIA'S DIARY

  Day 1:  I no longer have any concept of time

  We saw the cliffs of Moher, which were actually invisible due to fog (bummer), we kissed the Blarney Stone, we duelled in the castle garden using sticks, and we almost trespassed on private property (whoops?). 

  We also attended an authentic medieval banquet at Bunratty Castle, which was definitely one of the top ten most fantastic things to ever happen to me. We were served and entertained by a troupe of people dressed in medieval garb, all of who managed not to break character for the entire night. We weren’t even allowed to use forks or spoons—it was brilliant. At one point, Brian was taken prisoner and had to sing for us to be released. On the bus ride back to the hostel, half of the bus had an enthusiastically off-tune sing-along, while the other half tried to find some quick, painless way to knock themselves unconscious for the rest of the ride home. 

  We slept. It was nice. 

  Day 2: London

  We started the morning by walking around for roughly a thousand years, but it was lovely because a) we were walking through London, duh, and b) we were walking through parks, which meant that there were dogs and babies everywhere. 

  We visited a massive memorial to Prince Albert (we also visited literally everything else in London but I don’t have the time to list all of that here). The story behind this memorial is quite funny- Queen Victoria had apparently built it out of a very odd sort of passive-aggressive spite (Albert, her husband and the man here memorialised, hated the thought of a memorial to him). This seems only mildly eccentric (even endearing) until you see the actual monument: towering several storeys high, gilded and engraved all over,  Albert is enthroned and surrounded  by larger-than-life figures symbolising the peoples of each corner of the earth and elaborate statues of saints and virtues.  I suppose the intent was to convince everyone of just how great Albert was; all I learnt was that monarchs are completely, incurably insane. 

  Day 3: The one in Edinburgh

  Scotland is rainy and very beautiful, but mainly rainy. Edinburgh is ancient and very respectable-looking, like the geographical equivalent of a professor. We loved the place, but unfortunately did not share our tour guide’s extensive knowledge of/enthusiasm for Scottish literature. 

  Barry and Michiel both bought kilts and spent the rest of their day being terrified of offending true Scotsmen with their refusal to wear the kilts the proper way (i.e., sans underwear). 

  After dinner, we had a very long walk up Arthur’s Seat, which is a hill that gives you wonderful view of Edinburgh. We complained all the way up but once we got there, it was breathtaking.

• PHILNA'S DIARY

  Arrival at Heathrow!

   

  Saturday, 28 June

  Our first day in London started spectacularly as we stood on the banks of the Thames, across from the houses of Parliament and watched Big Ben chime nine times in the sunny weather we were still taking for granted. 

  We visited Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, the birthplace of our most difficult exams. While we were seated in the roofless theatre, half an hour before the next performance was scheduled to start, a few actors walked on stage and began to wriggle around and shout seemingly random phrases. These actors were warming up for their performance without any inhibitions whatsoever, leaving us gawking and giggling.

  Our last stop for the day was St Martin’s Theatre in the West End, to watch Agatha Christie’s play The Mousetrap, the longest running theatre production of all time. When the murderer in the story was finally revealed, the audience gasped so loudly that it seemed exaggerated.

  

  Tickets for The Mousetrap by Agatha Christie

   Wednesday, 2 July

  Today we visited Stratford-upon-Avon and the house that William Shakespeare grew up in. Right outside Shakespeare’s back door, three actors were performing extracts from any of his plays upon request. The forty-eight of us all made ourselves comfortable around them and shouted one request after the other. For the first time, we really laughed at his comedies without the jokes having to be explained to us by Ms Claassen, and we understood almost everything with remarkable ease. For the first time, we saw Shakespeare’s works more or less as they were intended – live and in person. For the first time, we understood why we are still studying Shakespeare almost 500 years after he was born in the house that we were sitting in front of.

   

  In front of Shakespeare’s birthplace in Stratford-upon-Avon

  Saturday, 5 July

  In Scotland, we visited the Falkirk Wheel, a remarkable feat of engineering. We boarded a 50 tonne boat, which was then lifted 86m into the air by the wheel into the upper canal, in only 4 minutes.

  In Edinburgh, where we spent the night, some of us were lucky enough to experience the Edinburgh Dungeons, where we were taken from room to room by an array of famous and scary characters, learning about Edinburgh’s darker past and being scared out of our wits simultaneously.

  That evening, Ms Claassen seemed determined to “climb every mountain,” and we first made our way up Calton Hill, which boasts some of Edinburgh’s most famous buildings, as well as a 360-degree view of the city. As the sun started to set (at about 11pm), we scaled Arthur’s Seat, a large hill outside the city, from which we could see all of Edinburgh, with green hills on the one side and a harbour on the other. 

  Wednesday, 9 July

  Today we took a road trip across Ireland with Ben, the bus driver, at the wheel. Our first stop was Blarney Castle, where we climbed the seemingly endless winding staircase and leaned off the tower to kiss the Blarney Stone, just like Winston Churchill did. Next, we spent some time in the town of Adare, known as the prettiest village in Ireland.

  We drove all the way to the world-renowned Cliffs of Moher, or at least that was what the road signs told us. All we could see was a field full of cows next to what looked like the cliff at the end of the world. Layer upon layer of fog as thick as pea soup surrounded us as we were blown away by wind and rain. After battling the elements for a while we gave up, and made our way to a beach in the nearby town of Lahinch. 

  Our final stop for the day was at Bunratty, where we enjoyed a medieval banquet in a 400-year-old castle! We were served four courses without any cutlery and were entertained by singers and harp players. We only arrived at our hostel at 1am.

  

  Medieval entertainment in Bunratty Castle

  Saturday, 12 July

  On the morning of our second-to-last day in Dublin, we make our way to the modern Writer’s Centre. We meet a young tattooed and bearded poet, but when he starts speaking, we South Africans fall into an utterly confused silence. What language was he speaking? After he repeated himself a few times, we realised that he was indeed speaking English, and he wanted us to write a poem about ourselves. Apparently, much to our surprise, we were attending a poetry writing workshop. After some more confusion about paper and pens, we lapsed into another silence – this time an awkward silence. Write a poem about ourselves? The idea was uncomfortable to most of us. It took a while, and some gentle motivation from our new poet friend (that we mostly couldn’t understand), but we wrote, and then we read. Many people read their poems out loud, and for the first time on the tour we weren’t only doing the listening, but the talking as well. Our diverse poems incited laughter, tears, cheers and applause, but mostly they provoked surprise at our fellow students’ hidden talents.

  The rest of the day was spent at the Writer’s Museum, at an art gallery, gawking at a protest, and on a Viking-themed “splash tour,” in a roofless bus that doubled as a boat, where we were encouraged to ROAR in true Viking-fashion at unsuspecting locals. We ended the day in the famous Temple Bar area of Dublin, in a pub for dinner and a river dancing show. 

  

  Viking splash tour in Dublin

  This is a tour we will never forget. The things we learnt can mostly be categorised as follows:

  1. How much we don’t know about literature

  2. Much more than we wanted to know about each other

  3. Some valuable things about ourselves during the adventure of a lifetime.

  Oscar Wilde in Dublin

  

  We keep James Joyce company in Dublin