On Friday, I took a flight over the ocean that took -25 minutes and my country count is now at 10.
In other words, I went to Guernsey this weekend, a little island in the English Channel that Jonathan calls home. (For those of you that haven't been keeping up since the beginning, Jonathan is my closest friend from my Germany program back in August.)
I flew over in a plane with 5 people. Other than the pilot, I was the only person who bothered to put in earplugs (those being my iPod ear-buds) to lessen the mind-jarring whir of the propellers while I worked on my mental homework - memorizing a 14-line poem by Baudelaire.
I discovered an affinity for British humor, even if Alan Partridge reminds me a little of Larry David.
We were nearly blown off the (guardrail-free) cliffs by hurricane-force winds, but luckily my only battle wound was a splinter from purposefully falling into some bushes - standing was not an option at the moment.
I learned about the casual art of making loose-leaf tea, and still managed to spill the dried leaves everywhere.
We ate a 7-course dinner and couldn't name half of the dishes. I even resisted the urge to make wine glass harmonies and hang a spoon off my nose.
We visited the smallest chapel and the oldest postbox in the world.
I found out (again) that church in other countries isn't that much different from that which I'm used to, which made it all the more comforting and uplifting.
And I realized too quickly that a weekend was not enough time.
At least I have another month on this side of the pond.
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