4.14.2003

nice is nice
…a bit too nice for the pale-skinned Erica. My weekend in Nice, France was everything it was supposed to be: full of eating crepes in cafes, sitting by the water, eating crepes on the beach, and shopping. Elizabeth and I went to Cannes on Friday and unfortunately the weather wasn’t the most agreeable. We did get to walk along the sandy beach a bit and see the place where the Internation Film Festival will be held in a month, before we were fortunate enough to be chased by a downpour into a café that made the most fabulous crepe I think I have ever eaten. Apple/Caramel. Mmmmm.

a stone’s throw across the med to africa
It amazes me to think that as we sat on the pebbly beach in Nice, the African coast was just across the sea. A few hundred kilometres, albeit, but I liked to pretend that it was just off in the distance, barely out of sight. We fell asleep on the beach and woke up quite pink. Now, I don’t mean to rip on any country observing the Sabbath, however, when not even the Pharmacies are open on a Sunday, I got a bit frustrated. And of course, no one in London carries Aloe Vera because no one in London gets enough sun to warrant the lathering of such a salve. Oh well, it’ll go away in a few days…just in time to get burned again in Barcelona over Easter. :)

i’m not going to get mushy, i’m not
In only two weeks, I will have left this wonderful city behind and will be back in good ol’ Manhappenin’, KS. I really am not ready to leave yet. I don’t know how I have spent nearly a full four months in London and still have a list a page long of things I want to do and sights I want to see.

. . . and the internship is really getting good
The people are fabulous, (They like me! They really like me!) and I feel like I’ve actually become part of the office culture. Last Tuesday, Karen, the new fashion editor, took me with her on a fashion shoot; she has also said that she’d call a skin care company and request some Aloe Vera to be sent in for me for free…if only she can find her diary (remember: appointment book and contact info) with the phone number. Sally, the art director, invited me to her birthday shin dig this Saturday, (I unfortunately had to reply, ‘Sorry, I’m going to be in Spain that day.’) and has said she’d like to take me out to lunch for my birthday and to chat about design stuff. Tomorrow, I’m spending my birthday lunch with Kate, the editor, chatting about the biz. I haven’t been able to get much design experience, which is unfotunate, but my experience here has been well, rewarded if simply because I am now certain that I want to work in the magazine industry. I love the office culture and pace, and I’m fascinated by the process of putting together a publication that has UK news stand sales of more than 55,000. I really couldn’t have asked for a better placement and I’m desperately hoping that my first ‘real world’ job will be anywhere near this.

many thanks
…Pat! For the sweets and birthday card!!!

my ‘diary’ for the next two weeks:
Monday (14): work, class, type final papers
Tuesday (15): (birthday) work, lunch with Kate, final BLC class, finish typing papers, try to squeeze in a small celebration
Wednesday (16): meet with the programme directors to discuss my internship, final excursion down the River Thames to Greenwich, celebrate my birthday in style
Thursday (17): final day at work, go out with office chums
Friday (18): squeeze in as much sightseeing as I can: possibly see Kensington Palace, Regent’s Park, John Wesley (started the Methodist denomination)’s house and museum, stop by the National Gallery again as well as the National Portrait Gallery, see Paul McCartney in concert…just two blocks from my flat!
Saturday (19)-Wednesday (23): fly out to Barcelona, spend more time on the beach (this time lathered in sun block)
Thursday (24): final meeting for journalism class, some more sightseeing around London, farewell party with programme
Friday (25): visit Kew Gardens and begin packing
Saturday (26): popping the zippers on my bags as I try to squeeze everything back in two bags and a carry-on
Sunday (27): fly home

observations
-The most foreign I have felt since being in Europe was yesterday, attending a Russian Orthodox service in Nice. Not only was the language foreign, but the customs were, too. I’m really glad I went, though, because it was so neat to see how people can worship the same God as me in such a different way.
-You are not allowed to cross your legs in a Russion Orthodox church. Oops!
-The candy bar situation in the UK is mixed up…or maybe the US candybars are the ones to blame. The UK’s equivalent to the 3 Muskateers (which really does not taste the same) is called Milky Way. Their equivalent to the US’s Milky Way is a Mars Bar. All candy bars are putt out by the same company as the US candies. How odd. Still no Reeses PB Cups, however. They’re deprived, here, they are.
-A British accent on kids is still cute.
-Cuba is a popular vacation spot for Britons. According to my editor, it’s because the Americans haven’t swarmed the place. Brits apparently aren’t phased by a little thing called the Cuban Missile Crisis.

No comments: