Where’s the tea?

16 May 2012

Could I just begin by saying I’m a little disappointed that I had to make it through my entire first day in England without a single spot of tea?  I’m not a very picky traveler, but of all places, I assumed I’d be able to find a cup here.  I had to settle for some very strong coffee with dinner at five to keep my eyes open until nighttime.  I was determined to stay up late enough that I’d get a respectable eight hours of sleep my first night in Liverpool.  Above all, I wanted to avoid that awful sort of groggy hangover you get when you’ve had too much sleep.  Somehow I managed to stay up until eleven thirty, which meant that in Indiana time, I’d essentially been awake from seven Sunday morning until six thirty Monday evening.  You know, now that I type it out, it doesn’t sound nearly that bad.  But throw in a two-hour flight, a seven-hour flight, and a good cry or three, and you’ll believe me when I say that it was a long day and by supper I really just wanted a cup of tea.

I’m happy to inform my justly concerned readers, however, that I’ve found tea at some point both yesterday and today, and that my mood has been significantly improved for it, and that our university liaison has taken to calling me “Teapot” (of which I heartily approve).  You may rest easy.  In fact, I’m drinking a cup right now.

There’s so much more I’d like to write about, like about going downtown and missing a bus, and getting lost, and walking forever, and Sam and Joe, and the Abbey Pub and Fish and Chips.  But all of that will have to wait, because not even I like to read blog posts that are eight pages long, and my English flat-mates are ready to go to the Fiveways Pub with their newfangled Americans.  Cheers!


About leahrayanne

Autumn. Long conversations. Tea. People. Undisturbed land. Cooking. Literature. Teaching. Learning. Hiking. Travel. Laughter. Things built to last. Love. Home.
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4 Responses to Where’s the tea?

  1. Sabe says:

    You’re still such a child in all of the best ways, Love.

    • leahrayanne says:

      Hahaha, really? How so?

      • Sabe says:

        It’s in the way that, despite everything, you still manage to be so affected by the world around you, and so openly at that. Most people, even at our age, don’t have that; and I’m a prime example. By around 11, I’d been called melodramatic so often that I ceased to be affected by any but the most radical of experiences. You, though, somehow still meet every situation with a sense of newness, and you revel in it. Sure, it makes for some very low lows (and random tears over cottage cheese commercials), but it also makes way for some truly magical moments, and both are beautiful in their own rite. You really hit the nail on the head in your last post; it isn’t skepticism, but wonder that you greet the world with, and it’s one of the things that make you yourself a wonder to behold.

        ….Aaaaaaand now, because that’s too much sentiment coming from me, a joke: Why is an elephant large, gray, and wrinkly? Because if it were small, white, and smooth, it would be a ping pong ball.

      • leahrayanne says:

        I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me! You’re right, that’s a lot of sentiment coming from you. I really appreciate it though. I have always been determined to let myself be vulnerable, because I think some of the best things are only experienced when you are.

        And I will definitely be retelling that joke.

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