The (Temporary, Highly Controversial, Unspeakable) End

I’m not a fan of endings.

For the longest time I’ve insisted that I came to Newcastle for the year because of Mum. Because of my passport. Because of the delightful weather.

But in all honesty it might have just been because I was terrified of it being over too quickly. Contrary to the countless stunned reactions I got when I decided to go abroad for the full year, I was never worried that a year was too long. I remember very clearly attending the varied information sessions about all of the incredible places that Loyola has study abroad programs- Auckland, Melbourne, Rome, Paris- but there was no amount of beachy pictures or promises of gelato that could outweigh being able to go abroad for the entire year. My reasoning was based on the very broad generalisation that “No one has ever said that they wished they had less time abroad” (which is most likely entirely untrue), and yet I’m thankful that at least no one ever said that to me, because there is nothing I wish less in the world than to have had less time abroad.

Regretfully, I haven’t written nearly as much this semester as I did the previous one- but in hindsight, I suppose I don’t regret it that much because it just means I was much more ‘immersed’. Looking back, first semester seemed like a practice for this one, which was full of more intense classes, tournaments, travels, and of course goodbyes. Nevertheless, I don’t intend on forgetting a single second of these past 4 months and so in aid of that purpose, here is an account of my final two months in Newcastle, England (written in the form of a ‘thank you’ note rather than a ‘goodbye’ letter):

Dear Belfast,

I like to think that I saw a good portion of the world this year. I frolicked through Europe, claimed Newcastle as my home, toured the entirety of England(‘s sport centres); and yet my tour of the UK wouldn’t have been complete without the unexpected joy I found in Northern Ireland.

One of my favourite aspects of this abroad program is that Loyola has an odd obsession with making sure we see every part of the UK- which is where Cardiff and Belfast come in. To Loyola’s credit, I had the opportunity to visit a lot of places this year that I never would have even thought of if the trip had not been organised for me (shout out to Wales). But unlike Wales, Northern Ireland decided to call in a miracle and let the sun shine for 3 days in a row (only if you’ve ever lived in the UK will you understand just how truly miraculous this was). So first and foremost, Belfast, all of the thanks in the world for that.

This weekend actually turned out to be one of my favourite trips that Loyola organised all year. Day one consisted of a tour of the Titanic museum- built in Belfast! (though I did find it bizarre that they built a museum to commemorate their biggest failure)- and then dinner in the centre of the city. The best part, however, was day two when we took an all-day bus tour of the coast and Giant’s Causeway. Despite the fact that it also happened to be the anniversary of the Easter Rising (hence the all-day coach outside of the city) the peace I felt exploring the Northern Irish coastline was unrivalled. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned this year from my travels, it’s that I would take a hike and a scenic view of the ocean any day over a busy, tourist-filled city. Not to say that I didn’t enjoy Europe’s greatest cities, but there was something so thrilling about scaling the sides of cliffs to get to the top of the causeway after months of climbing cathedral stairs. According to our enthusiastic, local tour guide (who not only spoiled several episodes of Games of Thrones for us, but was so distracted by the sun that he mentioned it approximately every two minutes) Giant’s Causeway is one of the ‘eight wonders of the world’, and it certainly got my vote. We also got the chance to cross the famous rope bridge across the cliffs (spoiler alert: featured in season six of Game of Thrones!!) and you can be really proud of us if you want, but don’t be fooled- it’s a really short bridge.

At the information meeting about this trip, our chaperone warned us to bring raincoats and flipped through slides with pictures of sunny Northern Ireland that read, “Google portrays Belfast as sunny, but I’m not convinced they’re not photoshopped”. So here ya go Loyola:

Thank you for showing me Newcastle, the (entire) UK, and the world.

Dear Pies,

I honestly don’t even know where to start. I owe my abroad experience to you.

From my freshers tournament at the beginning of the year, to our finish of 3^rd at Women’s Nationals, you have not only helped me become a better Ultimate Frisbee player, you have made me a better person. These past few weeks have been the most emotional as the season has slowly come to an end and people keep trying to say goodbye to me, but they were also my favourite memories by far.

When I was asked in February to play for the women’s indoor nationals team, ‘nervous’ was a laughable understatement. As someone who had only just learned to play in October, I was terrified to let down all of the other members of the team who had a significant amount of experience over me. Obviously it was an incredible honour to be playing on such a skilled team- and I had one pretty simple job (sprint)- but it wasn’t the fact that we won all of our games the first day that made me feel confident by day two. That team became a family for me in this foreign country, and by the time we were ready for outdoor nationals I was only feeling excited. Nationals in Nottingham turned out to be a crazy, whirlwind of a weekend that showed us a brilliant display of sun, rain, sleet, hail, and even a little bit of snow, but when we won against Leeds (the only team to beat us at regionals… and not in a close game by any means) I have never felt more proud to be a part of any team in my life.

Then came AGM- the Annual General Meeting- in which all of the committee positions were up for election and awards were given out for the year. As ‘leavers’, we were allowed to vote in the elections and even received gifts at the end, but it was definitely bittersweet to sit back and watch the future of the club planned without us. So, in an effort to never be left out, Sarah Hand and I decided in to run for our own made-up committee position: International Relations. Complete with an entire powerpoint presentation and social media campaign (#AmericanAmendment) we made our case to the committee to have this position added to the club constitution. Unfortunately, the amendment wasn’t passed because Newcastle (Will Mulvaney) takes Ultimate Frisbee VERY seriously, but they did vote unanimously to ‘humour us’, which was enough for me. They couldn’t stop me from relating internationally if they tried.

The final official Frisbee event was the Athletic Union Ball, which we refused to call by its real name, and instead referred to exclusively as “Frisbee Prom”. This was basically just an excuse for us to all dress up really nice and experience prom the way it should have been (with champagne and bumper cars). While it was a little overwhelming to eat dinner with the university rugby and football teams on either side of us, it was also just so cool to have the team recognised for the incredible efforts that everyone has made this year. We were nominated for ‘most improved team’ (which we lost to swimming, but last year I heard it was darts so that would have been worse). If it counts for anything, I wouldn’t have rathered to be on any other team. 

Now the season is technically over, but that hasn’t stopped us from throwing Frisbees any free second that we can or playing in the Newcastle Draft League every Tuesday, which is basically like middle school gym class for keen Ultimate Frisbee players. I joined this team as a way to fulfill my immersion project requirement and to try to show-up Tommy over the summer, but I honestly don’t know what I would have done without the Newcastle Pies. I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that I’ve been affected by every person on this team- whether it be through showing me how to throw a forehand, powering through 7 am trainings, long car rides to and from tournaments, dancing at Flares, or teaching me the true meaning of ‘keen’. You can all rest assured that my beautiful, new kit will be proudly worn in America (or proudly displayed on my dorm room wall, haven’t decided yet). I hate to say that I hope you don’t get new Americans next year that turn out to be even more stellar… but I truly hope you don’t.

Either way, thank you. You made England our home too.

Dear Amsterdam,

When I got home from my European travels I considered myself pretty much done with world adventuring, but of course we had saved the best for last. We decided to plan our trip to Amsterdam for a weekend in May so that we could hopefully experience some spring weather, but we had no way of knowing in March (sat in a hostel in Montpellier frantically scanning through flights on our smartphones) that we were picking the most beautiful weekend the world had ever seen. 80 degrees and sunny the entire time, we spent the whole time under blue skies and surrounded by bright, blooming tulips. I couldn’t help feeling a little sad that I wasn’t home with my mum for (American) Mother’s day giving her her own tulips, but luckily Belle had me covered. Meanwhile, my five friends and I wandered through the parks, museums, gardens, and canals of Amsterdam for two days.

It wouldn’t be an adventure without getting lost and confused at least once though. Our first night, determined to make the most of all of our time in the city and curious to gain some insight into Amsterdam’s mischievous reputation, the six of us threw our bags on our hotel beds, ran in the direction of the nearest public transport (a large bus station), and boarded the first bus that came. Despite the seemingly flawless nature of this plan and assurances from Andy who had been to Amsterdam before (once), we managed to end up at a train station 30 minutes from our hotel… and 30 minutes from Amsterdam. By now it was about 10pm but we were determined to make it to the city so we bought train tickets for Amsterdam Central and then waited for it to arrive. And waited. And waited.

It never arrived.

But never ones to accept defeat, we ignored the helpful advice of station information men who answered, “How do we get into Amsterdam?” with: “You don’t”, and boarded bus #2 and then #3 until FINALLY we made it to the centre of the city by about 11:30. Needless to say we needed a drink, some chips, and views of the canals- which lasted about an hour until we were exhausted and headed back home- but we had made it to Amsterdam…. and Haarlem and every neighbourhood in between.

The next day we woke up at 7 am to see the Anne Frank House and then explore Vondel Park and of course the ‘I Amsterdam’ sign. Only slightly disheartened by the fact that there isn’t a ‘J’ in Amsterdam, I took lots of pictures with the other arbitrary letters, all complete with random children (and men) climbing all over them in the background. What I really wanted to do was rent a bike, but that proved more difficult than expected, I suppose because it’s the main mode of transportation so they probably don’t want tourists blocking their bike paths all the time. We had a great time walking and eating along the canals though and I was just as happy about that. Our second night we explored the night life a little more- navigating our own cultured pub crawl of an Argentinian grille, a Cuban bar, and of course a traditional British pub. We saw the Red light District (for approximately 5 minutes) but it turns out all we really wanted was a cider and some fun cocktails.

When asked later by my Auntie Jean about which European city was my favourite out of all of my travels, she was shocked by my answer of Amsterdam: “Isn’t that a bit naughty?” And yeah, it is. But the Amsterdam that I loved was the city made up of canals, bike paths, tulips, and the most accepting atmosphere I have come across anywhere. I could have easily spent a week in Holland, but I’m glad that I got to at least spend that little bit of time revelling in the flowers and summer-esque weather.

Thank you, Amsterdam, for being my final and favourite destination in Europe. And thank you to my friends who made getting there as much fun as being there.

Dear Prentice family,

I am so thankful for the time I was able to spend with all of you, even if it was way too short! Walking around Lichfield with Grammy and Auntie Jean, it’s hard to believe that Mum grew up somewhere so beautiful- and so entirely different from me. I feel as though I know every bit of Lichfield’s history now (Dr. Johnston and Erasmus Darwin would be very proud). Grammy and I even got to skype the whole family back home and though that always makes me a little homesick, it was much easier with the other half of my family on the same side of the screen with me. 

Having been constantly surrounded by the Kenny family my entire life, ‘close’ is the only type of family I have ever known. I knew that getting the chance to visit you all here throughout the year was a major part of why I wanted to study abroad in England, but I never realised how much it would actually come to mean to me. Between my visit in February with Mum and Dad and my last visit to Lichfield by myself in May, at some point it stopped feeling like another trip and started feeling like going home. Despite the years and the distance, I felt so welcomed and comfortable being back in the place where Mum grew up. I’m so grateful for all of the lunches, the teas, and the hours spent just catching up; my biggest regret of this year is not being able to have visited more often. I finally understand where I get my obsession with cats, my love of tea rather than coffee, and most importantly, my crazy English mother.

Thank you for her, for the love you’ve shown me, (and obviously for my love of cats).

Dear Newcastle,

Obviously this entire blog is a personal ode to Newcastle, but I feel the need to highlight a few things that happened in the last weeks abroad that truly made me honoured to have called this city home for the year. I’ve come a long way in my relationship with Newcastle- from tirelessly explaining to fellow Americans that it was ‘kinda near Scotland, nowhere near London’ to exploring every inch of it with other uni students- but I don’t think I understood the true Newcastle until I was led around by real locals. I was recently lucky enough to be visited by a few friends from the camp I worked at last summer (representing Michigan, London, and of course Newcastle) and it happened to be exactly what I needed: a crazy combination of home, camp, America, England, and a few of the best people I have ever met.

Apart from the obligatory night out in Newcastle that everyone needs to experience at least once in life, one of the biggest highlights was Liz and I’s very first Newcastle United/ Premier League football match. For those who aren’t fanatic Geordie football fans, here is a bit of background on why this game was so inspiring:

Newcastle United- while supported by one of the largest fan bases in the UK and known for their die-hard sports fans- is not very good. In fact, this season they were relegated from the Premier League and so the match we attended was not just the final game in the season, but also their final game in the best football league in England. Put simply, emotions were running very high. In addition to all this, Tottenham (the opposing team) was ranked 2^nd in the League and needed (and expected) the win. Newcastle fans weren’t bothered by this, however, because they were so worried about their amazing manager- Rafa Benitez- leaving the team due to their relegation. So in the most touching display of fan support I have ever witnessed- and I’m not exaggerating- Newcastle fans chanted “Rafa Benitez, we want you to stay” for the entire 90 minutes of the match. I have literally no idea who this man is, but if he doesn’t stay with us after that I don’t know what could convince him.

Anyways, against all odds, (spoiler alert): WE WON! 5-1

I’ve always been a soccer fan but I have never been so utterly in love with the sport as I was in those final moments. The man next to us turned to Liz and I and kissed us both on the cheeks and yelled, “You are our American good luck charms! You can never leave!!” Now I can’t guarantee that my presence allowed Newcastle to miraculously win, but I can say that I no longer have any choice but to be a Newcastle United fan for life. Rafa might have bigger and better plans, but if given the choice, I would never leave.

Thank you to my wonderful friends for traveling across country for a few amazing hours, to Camp Starfish for bringing us together, to Newcastle for giving me new reasons to love it every single day, and to Rafa Benitez. (We want you to stay)

Dear Final Exams, 

I don't actually have much to thank you for, you're the worst. I am thankful, however, for the procrastination techniques that exams inspired and the beautiful adventures that came out of them. As mentioned in an earlier blog in January, British exams are just about any American student's worst nightmare- generally accounting for 60-100% of the final mark and taken in conditions similar to the SATs- but luckily I only had three to brave. In fact, perhaps the worst part was trying to study for these exams while also seeing post after post on social media of the beautiful beaches of Niantic, CT and the long-awaited return of the Dairy Queen s'mores blizzard. I also had to make sure that all other outstanding assignments were completed prior to leaving England because of my insane plans to return to summer camp in the middle of the woods 24 hours after stepping off of the plane from Heathrow. While it's still unclear whether this decision made in December during my concussion is the best or worst thing I've ever done, I know in my heart it will be the former. Getting over the heartbreak of leaving England will be one of the hardest things I've ever done, but if there's anywhere in the world that could put the pieces back together it's Camp Starfish. 

Stage one of the procrastination plan began with making a bucket list of things to do in Newcastle before leaving. This list included seeing the Angel of the North (pictured above), exploring Jesmond Dene (one of Newcastle's most scenic parks), and finally making it to Edinburgh just an hour away (and previously skipped in order to attend a frisbee tournament, oops). And I am proud to say that we did accomplish all of these things and more. In fact, each of these little trips became some of my favorite memories and they certainly helped to distract us from the ever-nearer departure date. Edinburgh in particular really blew me away with its beauty. Sarah and I spent most of the day climbing to the top of Arthur's Seat in our Converse and Toms (thank you to all of our Newcastle friends who assured us it was just a 'hill') but it was beyond worth it. Besides the fact that Sarah has an extreme fear of heights and every single other person on the mountain was 100% more prepared than we were, the views of the city on one side and the ocean on the other were amazingly beautiful. So thank you Scotland for that, and for being exactly what I needed. 

It's so hard to describe the feeling of leaving a place after a full year spent putting your heart and soul into adjusting to it. 

For me, Newcastle was always so much more than a geographic location in which to study. It was a place for new relationships, new passions, and new adventures. A place in which I both discovered my comfort zone and then broke out of it. A place in which I wasn't confined by anything but intrigued about everything. A place that felt both foreign and like home depending on the month, but in which I spent the best year of my entire life. If there is one thing that studying abroad has truly taught me, it's that heartbreak over a place is only due to having left pieces of your heart behind there, and Newcastle has been taking tiny pieces of my heart one by one over the past eight months and I don't expect to get them back when I leave. But that's okay by me. The person that I am sitting in Heathrow right now writing this is not the same person who sat here eight months ago, spending her first pounds on Starbucks and feeling like her heart would explode from beating so fast. I have loved deeper, worked harder, believed stronger, laughed longer, and adventured further than I could have ever imagined was even possible. It wasn't all a fairytale- change like this never is- but it was my version of one, because it was real and I lived it.

Our final nights in Newcastle didn't include very much sleep (I think the average for the week is about 3 hours a night) but there came a point where life got prioritised over being well-rested. Whether it was dancing in Flares until they kicked us out, running across the moor at 4:29 am to see the sunrise from the top of the hill, or hysterically crying in bed sandwiched in between my two best friends on our final night after saying goodbye to our friends, I would probably give up sleeping altogether if I could have just a few of those moments back.

There aren't enough thank you's in the world to account for all the people, places, and things that made this year a reality, but thank you Mum and Dad, for everything from answering my hysterical phone calls at 3 am to paying for my 65 pound fee for having an obscenely overweight suitcase on the journey home today. See you in a few hours at the Logan arrivals gate!!

Thank you to all of the incredible friends that I made this year, whether you were American, British, frisbee players, flatmates, or just people who made me feel welcome in this new place. I have never felt more loved in my entire life and I easily owe my abroad experience to the people who made it what it was. There are no words to describe the pain associated with this part of leaving, but I will say the main thing getting me through leaving is that I get to take two of those people home with me. Sarah and Lindsay, I couldn't have survived a day without you. Thank you for adopting me temporarily as your travel companion and forever as your best friend. I feel like one of the luckiest girls on the planet (and I've seen a lot of it now so I feel more justified saying it).

Thank you world for allowing me to explore you this year- nine European countries and countless beautiful cities later.

And thank you, Newcastle, for not just being the point of rest in between but the place to which I couldn't wait to get back. I have a feeling that won't change.

 

(I did warn you there would be no goodbye, so see you soon xx)