Day 6: NINE ROOMMATES. NO CUPS.

(Also, in a completely unrelated matter, our toilet is broken)

We slumped around the table. A stressful day of moving into our fully-furnished* apartment had just ended. Now we all just wanted to relax. Have a drink.

That's when we discovered the problem. No cups to drink the refreshments we had bought from the grocery store. So, like any resourceful (read: lazy) college student, we improvised with whatever cup-like items we could find in the house:

Me: Drank cranberry juice out of the carton.
Brad W.: Tossed back swigs of coke from a shot glass.
Will H.: Chugged coke from a wine glass.
AJ C.: Gulped down Strongbow from a "sapphire" Coca-Cola glass he received with his chicken tenders at McDonald's.
Sarah M.: Sipped tea from a mug that stated matter-of-factly "I ♥ Mum"


No London home is complete without a mug stating that you heart your mum.

When you're in another country, it's probably best not to sweat the little things. For once, I need to be laid back.
Two reasons:
a. I'm in a foreign country. That's just awesome.
b. I'm in a foreign country. What the hell is going on? I barely can function in America. And you expect me to fix a toilet in Great Britain.

Oh that reminds me. Other cultural adjustments we'll need to make in our apartment:
No dryers - Londoners do battle with dirty laundry with just a washer and a drying rack. It's a losing battle, in my opinion.
Faucets - Sinks here have a separate faucet for hot water and cold water. Lukewarm water is achieved by clapping your hands real fast while both faucets are running.
TV Stations - Only five measly channels. Brits pay a yearly television license fee. It gives viewers five terrestrial television stations (BBC1, BBC2, ITV1, Channel Four and Five). The good news: no commercials.* Oh and also lotsa American tv courtesy of the CW.
Paper money - The English love coinage. There's a penny, a two pence (tuppence), a five pence, a 10 pence, a 20 pence, a 50 pence, a one-pound coin (a quid) and a two-pound coin. However, the country lacks one and two pound bills. Other than the change overload, there's one other problem I foresee: a severe shortage of people making it rain.
Toilet - One toilet doesn't flush. I don't think it's actually a British thing. It's just, well um, not good.

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Foot notes
*Fully-furnished except for the fact we don't have Internet, and we won't have it for awhile. So for us college students, in actuality, it feels like our house is completely unfurnished. We reacted to the news of no Internet like the world was ending. It reminded me of a scene in Airplane II when the passengers learn the spaceship is off-course, being torn apart by asteroids and the crew has run out of COFFEE!?!?! Yeah, we reacted similarly.

Estate manager: Your plumbing is broken
Us: OK. We can go without that a couple days.
Estate manager: There's a gas leak in your stove.
Us: Ooh that's exciting. It's like an adventure.
Estate manager: Also, you won't have Internet for at least a week.
Us: AHHHHHH! How do you expect us to live in this gulag?

*Cable television and satellite does exist for a price. And actually, most Brits receive more than five channels because there's something called "freeview." It's a whole complicated matter that's not exactly easy to explain. Nor do I understand it. So instead just log off your computer. Turn on your television and watch another rerun of Deal or No Deal. There. Much easier.

Day 5: CULTURE SHOCK

(Or what happens when you plug in an American clock into a British outlet)

My alarm clock died today. Or maybe yesterday. I don’t know I’m all jet-lagged out.

I guess that’s better than my alarm clock. It just stopped working. The adapter I bought for British sockets wasn’t intended for clocks. As a result, the high voltage fried my American clock.

The past three days have been a blur, as I try to adjust to a new culture. I guess the clock story could be considered a humorous* anecdote. But, okay, I like it as a metaphor.

I’m feeling a bit fried myself.

Most students abroad are juniors. As a senior, I know few of my classmates. So I’m more lost than most as we all look for affordable housing in the heart of London. Luckily, I’m taken in by two photo students I know—and six other photo students. I’m grateful for their hospitality. But, as always, there’s a catch.

I will spend the next four months living with these eight trigger-happy photographers. For the next four months, wherever we go—we are cursed to look like the most tourist-y of tourists. (If only Londoners could tell the difference between a Single-Lens Reflex D300 with a telephoto lens—and a Kodak disposable camera. If only I could.)



Photo majors even photograph their alcohol.

Each group of students, was assigned a native Londoner to help with the housing search. We received a poor ol’ unemployed actor named Gary. Much later, we found out he was only acting when he said he was a poor ol’ unemployed actor.

We discovered a decent-sized home owned by man who looked eerily similar to Brick Top of Snatch fame.* Of course, he was much more humane (like a Pikey or even Brad Pitt). And soon we had cheap enough housing that it was covered by Syracuse’s per diem.

Just off the Edgware Road tube stop on the Bakerloo Line, we made our home.

After a hectic three days, holed up in a shoddy hotel paid for by SU—we now were no longer homeless. No more worries about housing meant it was finally time to start looking around and appreciating London.

But first I needed a nap. And, afterward, a new alarm clock.

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Foot notes:
*humourous
*Brick Top in Snatch famously dispatched of his enemies by feeding them to pigs. There were no pigs where we secured out housing. But there was a monstrous fish. And on our trip to check out the house, Brick Top’s son explained the fish had killed (other fish) before. I think it was clear. A message was being sent.

Snatch'd: THE LONDON EYE

(Eye am not impressed)

I’d like to present a weekly feature where I inform you, the reader, on what hyped UK attractions suck. And, also, what hyped UK attractions don’t suck. I’m calling this feature:

Snatch’d:* Rating the UK’s tourist traps.

No. 1: The London Eye / (2 out of 10)

Credit: Some dude / The London Eye. In the sky. Super fly.

Why I'm going: Syracuse University hooked us up with free passes onto this Ferris wheel-esque glimpse of downtown London.

Price: Adult (16+) tickets cost £15.50

Hours: 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. daily

Location: Next to about 30,000 tube stops in Central London including Westminster, Waterloo. Buses 211, 77 and 381 also work.

Stupid fact: For £33.00 (per person) you can get a Champagne Flight. A romantic evening above the Thames River? Not really. All it means is you and your significant other get a glass of Laurent-Perrier champagne during the flight—while everybody else in the capsule gets to watch you awkwardly sip the overpriced bubbly. Aww, how sweet!

Advertisements for the London Eye show onlookers soaring through the clouds. In actuality, you’re barely hovering over the Thames River. Sure, gazers receive a breath taking glimpse of the depth of London including the nearby Big Ben. Plus, the neighborhood where Hugh Grant lives. But even Big Ben was disappointing. The legendary clock tower was much smaller than I pictured.*

As you float through the sky, there’s a couple nice photo ops. But the experience grows old fast. And then the Eye itself takes an insulting photo op of you and whoever else is stuck with you inside this pill-like glass encasement. The attraction expects you to pay money for that photo? C’mon this ain’t no Splash Mountain.

Maybe the London Eye is a fun little adventure if you get vertigo. (And I don’t get Vertigo. I’ve seen that move three times, and I still don’t get it.)* but for those of us with a more balanced equilibrium, the Eye is—wait for it— hardly worth seeing.

Credit: Matt Levin / Going up. And then back down. Weeee.

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Foot notes:

*It should be obvious that Snatch is one of my favorite pieces of British cinema. And obviously my favorite Guy Ritchie film. For those not into Pulp Fiction-inspired British mayhem, Ritchie is the director-husband of Madonna. He also has only two quality films total, the other being Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. His latest film: “RockNRolla” has received mediocre reviews in his homeland. It hits American theaters on Oct. 31.

*Maybe the reason I thought Big Ben was so huge was because I always saw it so glamorized in Hollywood films. The two greatest (and possibly, only) fight scenes atop Big Ben in cinema history.

A. Jackie Chan battles some British aristocrat in Shanghai Knights II. Then Owen Wilson saves his life.

B. Basil of Baker Street battles Professor Ratigan in The Great Mouse Detective.

*That’s a joke from an Animaniacs made-for-TV movie*. And I straight-up jacked it for this blog. This is quality material here, people. Straight from the mouth of Wakko and Yakko Warner.

*I have never seen the movie Vertigo. But need I remind you, I did actually take the time to watch this movie.

Day 1: LEAVING ON A JET PLANE

(to England, and I’ll be back on December 11)

I waited in line at the Newark Airport. A man in a suit walked over. He made an announcement. He suggested, we should “straighten up the queue.”

This, was my first London experience.


Credit: Matt Levin / A "queue" of SUAbroad students at the Newark Airport

I imagined my first abroad experience would be my first-ever mid-flight meal, somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean. But maybe that was just because I was starving.

A hectic morning of last-minute packing in Palm City, Florida left me with little time to eat. And what I did eat didn’t exactly sit well with my stomach.

My breakfast: At 8 a.m. I downed a N.O.S. energy drink and half a Hershey bar (with almonds) and rushed out the door.
My lunch: Nothing.
My dinner: My breakfast.

So that’s why I was looking forward to the often dreaded mid-flight meal. But the British Airways clerk’s “queue” of close to 100 SU students was a much more pleasant introduction to Great Britain. Mainly it was that accent.

And, anyways, the mid-flight meal was disgusting.

So back to the accent. It would be un-American of me, if I didn’t spend my first blog entry about London fawning over the British accent.

It’s just so damn charming. Safety instructions on the flight sounded refreshing. The pilot sounded jolly instead of the usual monotone. Even my chicken-and-rice meal sounded less repulsive when the flight attendant first propositioned me with it.

The six-hour flight wasn’t too terrible either. I’ve never feared flying. I’ve also never flown across the pond before. My stomach was feeling a bit strange (hmm, might’ve been the breakfast again) before take-off. Luckily, British Airways offered free episodes of Flight of the Conchords* and Pong to calm* my nerves.

I slept through half the flight. I awoke—in the future. After drifting off to sleep at midnight, I woke up two hours later. It was 7 a.m.

Resting in front of me was an empty plastic cup, a dry salad* and some hardened rice. Also, the remains of some sugary, grotesque dessert. Ew.

A flight attendant walked by. Hefty bag in hand. “May I take your rubbish.”

Enchanting. What a delightful word for trash.

It was a superficial start to my four-month journey. But after forgoing sleep the night before, scuttling through two hectic airports, skipping multiple meals and finally arriving in a foreign land—rubbish was exactly what I wanted to hear.

Opposed to, you know, the usual garbage.

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Foot notes (not to be confused with soccer)
*Kiwi accents are equally charming. I need to practice mine.

*One other source of entertainment were the songs stuck in my head. I lack an iPod, but throughout the trip three songs kept going through my head as I jostled from one continent to another.
The three songs, so randomly, ingrained in my head:
‘Til Tuesday – “Voices Carry”
Metallica – “Seek and Destroy”
Random Bollywood singers — “Beni Lava”

*Mainly just lettuce. And a massive tomato. Not sure if it even qualifies as a salad?

A (not-so-thrilling) introduction

I’m creating a blog because I have to.

My name is Matt Levin. I’m a senior journalism student at Syracuse University. Right now, I’m studying abroad in London. Previously, I’ve held paid internships at two Top 100 newspapers. Looking ahead, in May, I’ll be graduating, and searching for a print journalism job. I might not find one.

Unless I embrace the Internet. I figure a blog is not bad place to start. And London—not a bad place to start a blog.


Credit: Some dude / A free photo of London I found online. It's pretty cool.

I feel privileged to be in London. I want this blog to appeal to a wide audience (college students, world travelers, fans of metal, etc.) It’s my first visit to a foreign country. I’m anxious to immerse myself in another culture. And write about it. Want to know the overrated tourist traps in London? Want to know whether Englanders prefer Obama or McCain? Want to know what’s the best beer in the U.K.? I hope to post blogs on all these topics. And if anyone has any suggestions on other topics (or they can tell me where to find the best pub in London), e-mail me at mrlevin1@gmail.com

Actually, looking back at what I’ve written above, I’ll admit: This sounds fun. I’m creating a blog because I want to.

I just hope someone notices (…and posts comments).

Enjoy!