Exactly halfway through the fall semester of every English university’s academic year is a week officially known as “Reading Week.” As the name suggests, Reading Week is an entire week granted to students that is free from lectures, seminars, essays, and otherwise official duties, with the intent that students will use these seven days to catch up on required and recommended readings for the courses they’re enrolled in. In reality, it’s a full week for university kids to do whatever the hell they want, wherever the hell they want, while visions of sugar plums and academically responsible students dance through their professors’ naïve little heads.
wanderer
The Journey So Far…
A roughly chronological compilation of happenings this semester. Enjoy!
Song is “Wanderlust” by Frank Turner.
itunes.apple.com/gb/artist/frank-turner/id108696785
Cliff Walking: A Narrative
This past weekend I joined the University of Manchester’s International Society on a day trip to the Isle of Anglesey in Northern Wales. Cutting right to the chase – this trip affected me. We saw nothing surprising, we did nothing extraordinary, yet the feelings I experienced at certain points on our excursion across the island were nothing short of religious.
To best relay the essence of these experiences, I’m going to attempt to – in utmost detail – repeat and relive one of the first stops we made during our tour of the island. Our group was only given one hour to explore, but the profound beauty of our surroundings was so intense that I refuse to leave them unremarked upon. Below is a description of the walk I took and the things I felt, and, although views and emotions were borderline indescribable, I’ve done the best I can to do them the justice they deserve.
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Something Familiar
There’s a saying that goes, “Every now and then when someone’s body enters the world in one place, their soul enters it in another.” If this has happened to you, then you already understand me. The unavoidable magnetism of another culture, a landscape that stirs something deep in your bones, a foreign land that you slip into as easily as a second skin – these are all signs that part of you is whispering, “Hey look, we’re home.”
A Wanderer In Training 