From Boroughs to Beaches: My Year of Study Abroads

from The London Review 2023

Who Are The London Reviewers

By Kat Balke

Alas, the time has come to draw the curtain on my Mary Klayder study abroad tour. Three countries later, I must retire my title of “trifecta candidate” in lieu of the more dignified, yet arguably clunkier, “trifecta finisher.” For those who are unfamiliar with the notion of the “trifecta,” the triangular abstraction consists of three, short study abroad programs: The British Summer Institute (BSI), the Travel Writing and Costa Rica program, and the all-hallowed London Review (the likes of which you’re skimming right now!). Beginning in the summer to the end of the spring semester, I have yet to spend a break absent of a trip with Mary.

Last summer, we set off on our grand expedition across the United Kingdom; in January we scaled the sides of volcanoes in Costa Rica; and in March, we embarked on a peaceful return to the place where it all began: London. Mary’s study abroad programs traversed the course of my entire junior year. In retrospect, I think the penultimate year of my undergraduate degree was defined by these adventures. With each new destination, I met new people and climates, but also new versions of myself, and for better or worse, left parts of me behind. I began the trifecta as husk: something lost in the wind, sucked dry by the capricious sun, and trampled on by unknowing passersby. By the terminus of the trifecta, I have been polished into a glittering suit of armor occupied by my truest self. To attempt to summarize the significance of these programs would be fraught; alas, I shall try regardless. The only way I can think of approaching an adequate recapitulation of my trifecta is via tube stations. I know, it sounds nonsensical, but stay with me for a moment. The BSI was electrifying, tranquil, and formative at the same time; thus, both the BSI and Costa Rica remind me of King’s Cross St. Pancras station. King’s Cross St. Pancras is home to six tube lines, and is perpetually saturated with people. Yet, even in the midst of chaos one can find tucked away corners and cafes to escape the bustling crowds. One is simultaneously overwhelmed and overconfident whilst navigating King’s Cross St. Pancras. The ceiling is littered with signs, “Circle and District Line” and “This Way Out.” Despite this gaudy signage it is shockingly easy to get lost. On both the BSI and in Costa Rica, meticulously crafted itineraries kept my head above water, but even my timetable couldn’t account for unanticipated emotional departures from the schedule. To find myself, I had to lose myself in the cacophony of the voices screaming at me to quit—telling me that I had been lost for too long to ever find the train which would carry me out of despair. Without even knowing it, by the end of my month in the UK and my two weeks in Costa Rica, I had already boarded the salvation train and emerged into the light. I only realized that I was free as I lay in the soft, sweet-smelling grass on the moors in Haworth and paddled through the Caribbean in Puerto Viejo. Russell Square Tube Station can represent no other program other than the London Review. Russell Square is situated in posh Bloomsbury, the home of the literary set of London. This bookish borough is home to the master of stream-of-consciousness narratives, Virginia Woolf, and the immutable serenity of the hamlet is palpable in the tube station. The station itself is tiny, although it descends shockingly deeply below the earth. The quaintness of the station is steeped in its lobby, which opens wide to a panorama of tall, white buildings against a pervasive earl-grey sky. I’ve never felt rushed in Russell Square—the close-quarters and shoulder shoves of the busier, larger stations are lost here. I know I can take my time here, thoroughly reading the directional signs and taking extra time to make sure I haven’t lost all of my belongings, as is my wont. Russell Square station is slow, and I have time to think: the London Review was relaxed, and I had time to reflect. My second time across the pond, I found myself unaffected by the insatiable pressure to do everything. I wanted to revel in rather than rush. So I did just that. I strolled through new boroughs, sauntered through the Victoria and Albert Museum, had scintillating meetings at Oxford and King’s College London, and cultivated relationships which I know will endure. On a more metaphysical level, I unearthed a version of myself which was lost in my own kind of blitz. She’s poised but allows herself to break; she’s a thrill-seeker but a homebody at heart; and she’s lost in the constellation of opportunities for a future she never thought she’d have.

Thank you, British Summer Institute, Costa Rica, and the London Review. Thank you, Mary, for the hugs, and for harboring my anxieties and my ambitions alike. Thank you, London, for sheltering me in your mist and weaving the Thames into my heart. See you very soon – cheers!

Kennedy is a first-year student at KU majoring in Film Production and minoring in Theatre. She enjoys reading, listing to music and podcasts, and of course, watching films. After obtaining her Bachelor’s degree, she will continue to graduate school to pursue editing in film. Her favorite part of London was shopping, especially for books. Her least favorite part was packing the books in her suitcase to take home.