Last Tour Guide Gig...

Matthew and I had exactly one week from when we left Italy until we would wave goodbye to England for good. We attempted to squeeze every last drop out of our time in Cambridge and London. As a consequence of traipsing back and forth across the European mainland, we had somewhat neglected the United Kingdom. Obviously, we don't regret any of the experiences we had, but of course there will always be a million other little things that we wish we had done. The good news is, we are young. And hopefully, we will have another chance to return to England and check a few more things off the bucket list there.

Fortunately, that final week in England was packed full of multiple highlights and once-in-a-lifetime experiences. I can't imagine the next time Matthew and I will have so little responsibility and so much quality time with each other. No school, no work, no worries. Just awesome British-ness. And love. (Cheesy? Yes. True? Totally. But I like cheesy.)

Anyway, a few days before our departure, hubs and I got to play tour guides one last time for a small contingent of fellow Okies. Three lovely Thetas (boom, boom!) were studying abroad, and one of them was the sister of one of our best friends from home. (Confused? Doesn't matter.) So, Matt and I had the privilege of one more day in London town, showing off the sights to our wonderful visitors.

Before meeting the girls, I forced my man to go to the Victoria & Albert Museum with me. I knew that it was home to a massive fashion exhibition, and I had been meaning to visit ever since I saw an advert for the 1950s ballgowns they had on display. My major was fashion/interior merchandising, for goodness sake. I couldn't allow myself to skip a premier design institute like the V&A. And it was free, so I didn't have to twist the mister's arm too hard.

What a regal space for a world-class collection.

Where all my Heritage of Dress classmates at? You know you know a cage crinoline when you see one. Bam.

1940s Dior... yes, please. I'd be fine dressing like this every day.

Maybe I should have been born in the 1950s. When I see outfits like these and watch Mad Men, I'm fairly convinced that my soul belongs in another era.

And how about these fun spindles! Art?

Or is it furniture? Or perhaps a welcome respite? Answer: All of the above.

Of course, our first stop once we finally met up with the three Thetas involved food. We absolutely had to take the girls to Ottolenghi. I think we single-handedly kept that Notting Hill bakery in operation with the steady stream of foreigners that accompanied us there. First Matt's family, then Jenna and Allison, then Meghan, and finally these collegiate sorority girls. I wish Ottolenghi would open a Houston location, or at least an international mailing service. The flourless chocolate cake would be well worth the shipping costs.

A quick jaunt down Portobello Road took us past a few things I will forever appreciate about England. Firstly, bicycles.

Secondly, gloriously weathered windows and wild gardens overgrown with roses.

Lastly, flower boxes and shutters surrounding antique glass panels topped with moss-covered shingles. Mmmmmm.

Most of the shops were closing up, and we had some big landmarks remaining on the agenda. Time to hop on the Tube!

Next stop, St. James's Park. And look what was waiting for us - a rainbow! During the whole 9 months we lived in England, I had never seen a rainbow. It was as if with this one sweet reminder God was assuring me of His promises. Ever faithful, ever true. Oklahoma or England or Texas or wherever. He's there, watching over me. Crazy how light-refracting water droplets elicit such a spiritual response.

Naturally, you knew you couldn't escape one more like this. (At least something pretty results from constant drizzling rain.)

Speaking of flowers, how's this for a topiary masterpiece? The Brits don't joke around when it comes to the Queen and her Diamond Jubilee. Oh, and hey, this is Chloe: gorgeous visitor and my sister for a lifetime! (But really. Kappa Alpha Theta 'til we die.)

These brooding clouds were another first. Three-quarters of a year and I'd heard thunder a grand total of 3 times. Contrast that to our first week in Houston when it stormed (lightning AND thunder) almost every single day.

The sky perfectly framed the angel. Gasp.

"And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, 
 the clouds be rolled back as a scroll; 
 the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, 
 even so, it is well with my soul." 

I know many of these shots are going to look very similar to ones I already posted. And Matt kept poking fun at me for taking dozens of pictures of things I already had dozens of pictures of, but I couldn't help it. Stepping just one or two feet to the side of where I'd stood before composed a completely fresh perspective. Goes to show that regardless of the number of repeats, you can always see something new.

St. Paul's was another place that definitely never got old.

Can't say the same for the routine of the Piccadilly Circus break-dancing crew. They got my hopes up every time, only to dash them with a less-than-stellar repertoire of moves. Although I guess I have to give this guy credit for one impressive stance.

(Very) Shortly after the soiree in front of Ripley's Believe it or Not, we had to part ways with our visitors. As sad as it was, we had a train to catch from London to Cambridge. This day was bittersweet to say the least. There were several "lasts" and "finals." But the good thing about endings is that they open the door for beginnings.

My innermost self wasn't the only thing that had changed since September. King's Cross got a major revamp just in time for the summer Olympics.

Upon boarding the train, it was farewell to London. In the city where old meets new, a part of my heart now resides.

Apart from sitting in Heathrow airport waiting on our departure flight back to the States, that was our last glimpse of England's capitol. (Sad face.) In Cambridge, another "last" came and went - our final meeting with Paola. All in all, I held up really well considering that I may not hug her again until heaven.

Michaelhouse Café was the perfect setting for our rendezvous considering how many times Paola and I had chatted over tea and coffee here.

Can you tell that our eyes are slightly misty? Notice Matt's hand on my shoulder keeping me from collapsing into a fit of ugly sobs. One of my prized possessions is the book that Paola gave us that day. It is filled with sketches of Cambridge landmarks. And these aren't just any sketches, these are drawings done by John Cooper! Remember, John? He and his wife Jenny were the sweet couple who held international student teas at their home on Park Parade. Because the Coopers served us tea and biscuits, we were introduced to Paola. What a special connection! An eternal one, I'd say.

I can't dwell too long on that particular goodbye. I only made it through the first time around because I knew I could ride my bike over to Paola's house if I needed to. Clearly that can't happen anymore, but you better believe we are going to utilize the heck out of Skype. (Paola just got an iPad, and she's anxious to use it. Seriously, she is too hip!) I'm beyond blessed that this woman took me under her wing. I wouldn't have made it through those 9 months without her.

Alas, this photo brings us to the end of today's post. And consequently, we are nearly to the end of the Grants' time in Cambridge.

Don't panic yet. There will still be a couple more posts before we are caught up to the present day. And the next one will involve the Olympic torch. (Hard to believe the Games have already come and gone! Geez.) See ya real soon!