I’ve been thinking a lot over the past weeks about what a difference two years makes. Due to a series of milestones that took place over last few months my experience here at Harlaxton has become radically different than it would have been had I come two years ago as a sophomore (when most of the other students here have come).  

Many of the sophmores are completely enthralled with drinking and their new liberties in regards to the practice. Having gained the liberty myself –after far too many years of waiting—just a few months ago the novelty is somewhat lost on me. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy drinking, and quite a bit if we’re being honest, but a lot of the novelty has worn off on me. Also, having limited time in Europe, and limited funds and all the rest of my life to imbibe large amounts of alcohol when I’m not facing a steep conversion rate allows me to put things in perspective, and prioritize. So, while my goals are getting to as many cool places as possible, and their goals are chugging as many pints as possible I work to put that in perspective. I understand that two years ago I was of a similar mindset.

There are other things though. This castle—for instance—is nice, but I fear it may have been a great deal more magical to me two years ago. It’s rather unfortunate really. It’s a magnificent and truly gorgeous structure. Just about anyone would, and indeed should, be happy to call it home—even for just a few months. First impressions are very important things, and you wouldn’t think it possible or at the least very easy to take the wind out of a manor house as magnificent as this. 

It got better though because after the bus stopped and we were shuffled inside and sat down we got to meet the guy from the video in person. He didn’t give us another speech though about how great harlaxton was, and what a great thing studying abroad was. No. He gave us the exact same speech, word for word that we had just seen on the video on the bus. There is nothing better than that when you’re hungry (I can only imagine how the sleep deprived people felt) and eager to explore and get settled into your new home than hearing an old guy repeat a speech he just gave. 

That said, Harlaxton is lovely. The view coming up the drive at twilight, or night, or in the middle of the day is something spectacular to behold. It’s just best taken in with your own thoughts, or whatever music you’d like to be listening to, or simply enjoying the simple sound of the wind rushing through the trees and the birds causally chirping back and forth to one another. To each his own I suppose, but for me I can think of ten better ways to approach the castle than listening to someone try to sell me on it, and tell me how I should feel.