It's...tomorrow?

Ok, so I'm not really sure still if this is Day#2 or Day#3, technically, but here goes.

My flight was terrific. I essentially won the lottery. I. Had. An Empty. Seat. For the win. So as a result, I passed the hell out most of the way there. When we arrived in London, we were asked to wait in a holding pattern above the airport for probably 15 minutes. I was about ready to jump out of my skin. I could see England spread out below me but just couldn't get to it. Frustrating.

We landed (in a bit of a strong crosswind so that was ... exciting) and there was an announcement over the PA system on the plane that Heathrow was experiencing staffing issues so the customs process might take "significantly longer" than usual. I groaned. We touched down a little after 9:15 and I was out of the airport and on the bus in an hour and a half. So, that was a success.

I need to say (as I've said probably every 15 minutes since I've been here) this place is ADORABLE. Seriously. The bus pulled out of Heathrow and immediately on the other side was a green field dotted with sheep and an old rusted out barn. I laughed. Out loud. Seriously, England, shut up. I guess this is technically from yesterday, now that I think about it, cause that was the beginning of one extremely long day.

My bus and train trip to Guildford was extremely easy. I walked into the Woking railair station at 10:39 and was on a train(which had arrived a full minute early) and leaving at 10:42 headed to Guildford. Needless to say, when I arrived in Guildford, neither I nor my host had expected me to arrive for another hour or so. So that was good.

I spent the afternoon yesterday walking around Guildford with friends, eating, and realizing that there are other people in the world that are as dorky and insane as I. There are even other composers. Guildford is a quaint little town built around a little church and a little grammar school that has expanded immensely with the arrival of the University and the building of the cathedral. But it still maintains it's "quaintness". Everything is that dark green that happens when the soil underneath is black. It's exactly what I wanted England to be.

Last night, my friend Sierra conducted the University of Surrey Symphony Orchestra in Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet and then her lecturer for her Master's conducted Carmina Burana. I had a bit of a moment. Here I am in England. Listening to an orchestra play music that I love. IN a cathedral. How does this happen?

After the concert we just went to the pub. And that's it. Guinness is delicious here. Women still dress like they want to be on Jersey shore. Guys where sequins and poof up their hair. I guess, now that I think about it, that one of the bars I went to reminded me very much of the bar to which I went in Seaside Heights, NJ. Interesting. In the last day I have already met some terrifically talented and wonderful people and experienced a lot of what an English music student's life is like. And I'm in.

Also, I'm old.