It’s been a slow few weeks in the life of Elisabeth. I spent Christmas and the days following in Iceland, but it’s been very quiet since returning to Bournemouth. I had another trip loosely planned to close out my Christmas break, but after reevaluating my budget and my energy levels, I decided to spend a chill week and a half in Bournemouth before starting back at work.

After nearly a month of travel, I had dearly missed playing music. The first thing I did upon arriving at my home in Bournemouth was pull out my fiddle and start practicing. During my last lesson, my instructor recommended I learn a new tune called Morrison’s Jig, an ear-catching Irish tune that you can easily imagine spilling out of coastal pubs in Galway. One of my goals whilst here is to improve my fiddle playing so that one day I can be one of those people at open jams who absolutely shreds tune after tune, but to get there I need to start expanding my repertoire. I’m currently brushing up on the pieces I learned in the World Fiddle ensemble at Belmont and an English reel I learned in November. Playing fiddle and feeling myself improve has been a big source of joy for me in these somewhat lonely days before work and friends return, and I’m glad I’ve made it a priority. 

Working on some music!

Beyond playing music, I’ve enjoyed beach runs, cooking (lemon and garlic sea bass with honey roasted vegetables was a favorite), and visiting local spots on my to-see list. One of these was the Russell Cotes Museum, a Victorian home and gallery donated by the English couple who lived there in the late 19th century. There was a rotating exhibition that had been added onto the home, but everything else was artwork, furniture, and collectables that had been brought home by the couple on their extensive travels around Europe and Asia, and I couldn’t help but hope that my future spouse and I can travel the world and decorate our home with the beautiful things we find. 

Yummy meal I made!  

A painting at Russell Cotes I particularly enjoyed 

On my final day off I decided to take a day trip to the Old Harry Rocks, a rock formation along the Jurassic Coast off Studland, England. This had been on my to-do list for awhile, and it exceeded my expectations. Despite it being January, the sun was shining radiantly onto the English countryside, and the typical coastal rains and winds subsided. After admiring the otherworldly cliffside for a long time, I ventured over four miles through public footpaths to reach a town called Swanage, where I stopped for lunch and a read (Notes From a Small Island by Bill Bryson) and reflected on how grateful I am to live in such a beautiful country. 

I’ll close out with a short poem I wrote on a run along the beach that encapsulates the simplicity I’ve experienced:

Shell

It’s one of those days where the sand
is like a disk, scraped smooth by the wind
and my steps leave a gentle imprint—
the lightness I wish to leave behind.
The sea brings with it a sweep of foam,
and a shell or two too, tokens
from its journeys westward,
now given selflessly to me.

Thank you, I’ll take one. 

December has been a busy month. I’ve spent barely a week in Bournemouth, and the rest of my time has been spent traveling across Europe on my Christmas vacation. Let me recap, starting from the end of my family’s visit:

The final day with my family was spent at Corfe Castle, the ruins of a once majestic castle built by William the Conqueror beginning in the 11th century. I thought that the whole site would be a drive-by, but there was a beautiful working village on the castle grounds that was quintessentially English. We stopped at the Greyhound Inn, the most photographed pub in England, and I took part in that title by snapping shots of my picturesque, archetypal English meal: a mushroom and leek pie, maple roasted root vegetables, mashed potatoes, and gravy. It was to die for. 

After nearly a week of being on the go in the busy streets of London and Edinburgh, I could tell that my family was grateful to take it slow, especially in a candlelit pub in an 11th century cobblestone-street-lined and thatched-roof-homes village with ancient castle ruins behind them and a steaming plate of shepherd’s pie in front of them. How much more English can you get? I surveyed the room and felt so full to see the three people who have guided me through life, the only people who have known every version of me, experience this new side of my life. My dad was smiling the whole meal through, and I felt so grateful and proud that they came all this way to see me and my world. Sipping my gingerbread hot chocolate, I knew this was a perfect moment. 

After spending nine days non stop traveling, I was a little worn out, but I had to keep up my energy because immediately after my family left I set out for a solo weekend in Germany. Even though I would’ve rather rescheduled the trip, I had a mission to live out my childhood dream of attending a German Christmas market, and I’m one who likes to fulfill a vision. Upon exiting my train in Nuremberg I immediately was met with the sight of a gothic building with that old German typeface reading “Opernhaus” and two minimally decorated fraser fir trees on either side of the entrance. This was exactly what I’d been hoping for. I hurried to my free walking tour and was more pleased by the minute by how this side of Germany was exactly what I’d been hoping for and more. The main attraction, Nuremberg’s Christkindl Market, was nothing short of magical: I wandered through long rows of illuminated huts with wooden ornaments dangling precariously from roofs, trays of freshly cooked lebkuchen (gingerbread) displayed in front, and steaming cups of glühwein (mulled wine) being served up at every other turn. I went to bed refreshed with a childlike joy, once again reminded of how traveling someplace new fills me with life and wonder. 

My second and final full day in Germany was less whimsical. As a fan of history, I took the day to explore Nuremberg’s dark past, starting at the German National Museum and taking the tram across town to the Nazi Rally Grounds and Documentation Museum. I knew that Nuremberg was the home of the famous Nuremberg Trials, but I was unaware that it also hosted the Nazi Party Rallies, held annually from 1933 to 1938. While many of the prominent sites have been destroyed, it was still eerie to walk the same streets that Adolf Hitler and the Nazis did only ninety years ago, and it made the events of the Holocaust feel more real. 

The final stop on my December itinerary was Iceland! I would be visiting my old host family from Summer 2023 and taking part in their Christmas traditions. I learned about the country’s dark folklore (there’s an evil Christmas cat that will eat children if they don’t get new clothes for Christmas), swam in an outdoor pool while it was snowing, ate traditional Icelandic Christmas foods, and spent quality time with my host family. It was lovely to see everyone again and to see how much the three girls had grown in just a year and a half. 

The girls and I with the evil Christmas cat.

My host mom, Laufey, knitted me my very own Lopapeysa for Christmas – and gave me a haircut! Merry Christmas to me!

For now I’m taking a few days in Bournemouth to rest before heading off on my next adventure. 

Until next time,

Elisabeth x

Iceland in the snow

Me and Laufey before a Christmas concert at the Harpa theater

I spent Thanksgiving morning in the crisp, cool air characteristic of Bournemouth in late November with a hot pumpkin-spiced latte in hand and the sun beating down on me. I’m accustomed to starting this day at a packed charity-sponsored 5k, but today I ran my own Turkey Trot at a park in Bournemouth and enjoyed the quiet of what was, to everyone else, just another morning. Last year was my first Thanksgiving away from family, and this is my first abroad, but I feel more grateful than ever when I reflect on all the changes that twelve months have brought—I’m in a much better place than I was this time last year. 

I felt that gratitude most deeply at The Story Work’s first-ever Christmas social, hosted at a sleek new coworking space in town center. Since learning that we could use the space for free, I thought it would be nice to organize a gathering for our volunteers and supporters to celebrate what we’ve accomplished in 2024 and lay out our goals for 2025. I’d forgotten how much I love event planning—from budgeting to playlist curating to hanging up posters around town, everything about creating a community event is life-giving. The event itself went even better than anticipated; we had over thirty attendees, several of whom came simply from seeing the event on Eventbrite. I delivered a fifteen minute presentation about The Story Works, and I felt so much joy as I surveyed the room of passionate and kind friends, each of whom has been impacted by our work. Better yet, my family was in town to visit, and they got a glimpse into what it is I do and who I interact with. Above all, I felt proud of the work that both the charity has done and I have done—this event and several of the accomplishments highlighted wouldn’t have existed without me, and after a period of feeling unproductive, I felt the weight of what I’d contributed. 

As I mentioned previously, my family visited in early December! My mom, dad, brother, and soon-to-be sister-in-law flew from Indianapolis to spend ten days traveling around the UK. We walked through the Christmas-lit streets of London, shopped for Scottish knitwear on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, and toured the breathtaking Corfe Castle and surrounding village in Dorset. It was so special to see them and to share my life here with them. 

The weekend before, my friend Eleri came over from Belfast to visit me in Bournemouth. On her first night here we prepared a classic Thanksgiving meal (honey and soy-glazed salmon, rosemary-parmesan mashed potatoes, roasted butternut squash and brussel sprouts, pumpkin pie), and the rest of the weekend was spent traveling to Oxford and Bath. Whenever I hang out with Eleri, I know we’ll have a long string of bits by the end of our time together. From reviewing bad coffee to writing silly poetry to making acronyms out of our names (the E in Elisabeth stands for Eggs, scrambled), any time spent with Eleri is a good time. 

There was a moment when Eleri first arrived in Bournemouth that stands out in my memory: we were approaching the pier, and it was the most spectacular day—the air was crisp but not biting, the sun shone down with a twinkle on the water, and the waves crashed mightily onto the shore. I looked at Eleri knowingly, she looked at me, and we busted out laughing. For the past few months I’d half-jokingly referred to Bournemourth as a dump (the B in Bournemouth is for Boring and Bad), but I knew then and there that this was not the full or even half the truth. Bournemouth is a beautiful place with its own unique strengths, and I’m fortunate to live here in this time of life. 

Sincerely,

Elisabeth x

November in Bournemouth has felt like life slipping into place. I’ve caught myself several times thinking, This feels like home, and the thought of leaving in less than six months saddens me. I have people who I care deeply for and care for me in return, and my work is feeling increasingly fulfilling.

It’s been busy with The Story Works as we approach the holiday season. After several weeks off, we had regularly-occurring workshops this week and last, and I had a chance to lead one for the first time. Our mission as a charity is to empower both students and volunteers, so when a volunteer does not ask to lead, it’s up to me to fulfill that role… and it was harder than I thought. The group of kids I led was the loudest and rowdiest we’d ever had according to Dee (my boss), and I felt slightly out of my element. The biggest thing I learned was that I need to control the room—that means not moving forward until everyone is quiet. I know each time I lead will be better, so I’m excited to learn and grow as a leader and a teacher. 

Last week’s workshop

We’ve got some exciting things as a charity coming up: first, I had a school accept my songwriting workshop! It will be a four week course with Year 10s (14-15 year-olds) culminating in a recording session. I’m set to start on January 20th, so I’ll spend the next couple months preparing the curriculum. Additionally, a local coworking space called Patch offered our charity free use of any of their spaces, so I booked a Christmas social for volunteers, supporters, and anyone who wants to learn more about the charity. I got so excited just thinking about putting together the invites and curating the evening. It made me remember how much I love and miss event planning and how creating a shared communal space is one of my favorite things to do as a human. 

The day that I toured Patch with one of our student volunteers, Maddie, was such a wonderful day. The Christmas decorations had just been put up in town centre, and Bournemouth looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen it. I walked past the lit-up Christmas trees, hot chocolate stand, and ice skating rink feeling so dang happy. As I took the bus home, Pret sandwich in hand, I saw a Slug and Lettuce on the second floor of a Tesco and thought, Yep. I love England. 

Bournemouth dressed up for Christmas!

Now onto my personal life. I embarked on a weekend trip to Spain with Eleri to meet up with one of our closest friends, Lydia, who is pursuing her master’s degree in Madrid. Even with few laid-out plans, the three of us had so much fun and giggled endlessly. The weekend was a much needed girls reunion and proved to me once again how a dose of familiarity can keep me motivated for weeks. I love female friendship! 

Eleri, me, Lydia, and Lydia’s friend Ryan in Madrid!

The food in Spain was so incredible. I have to gush over it.

A classic Spanish tapas meal, including Manchego cheese and Potatoes Bravos.

Lastly, I played another show this week, this time just me and my guitar. The audience consisted of the other performers and three people I invited, but I still had a blast. Earlier this year I made a vow to always perform like I’m playing to a full arena, so I gave this little acoustic set my all and decided not to care about how few people there were, and I felt myself enjoying the process so much more. My two friends were singing along and smiling big at me the whole time, and I felt so grateful that I get to perform my own music in another country. More of that to come!

Elisabeth x

My show!

After a slow October that left me feeling discouraged and unproductive, I’m writing this blog post as the happiest and most fulfilled I’ve felt in months. I spent quality time with friends both new and old and had some lovely new experiences that left me feeling proud to call Bournemouth home for this chapter of life. 

Toward the end of October I was feeling unmotivated and overall easily critical of Bournemouth. Life was beginning to lose its color, and I wasn’t feeling like myself. I needed a refresher, and a weekend trip to Belfast was just that for me. 

As soon as I met my dear friend Adam in the Belfast International Airport, I felt as though I had ascended into another plane of existence; I felt alive again. The drive into central Belfast felt both familiar and exciting; I had forgotten how much I love the Irish landscape—the harshness and wildness of it, the way everything is poetic, from the mist hovering above the hills to the rich green of the plains. It was as vibrant as I’ve seen a place in early November, each tree bursting with life and color. I was squealing with excitement, chatting and reminiscing with Adam as if there hadn’t been two and a half years of separation between us. 

My friend Adam and I outside my old flat

Stranmillis Road near Queen’s University, a very special place to me

Later Adam and I met up with my friend Eleri, who is pursuing her Lumos project in Belfast, and the three of us took a trip down memory lane, walking around Queen’s University and Elms Village where I lived in the spring of 2022. That day was probably my favorite day of the year, and maybe one of my favorite days ever. 

I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, like when you’re back in your hometown on Christmas Eve and your mom bakes you cookies and everything feels still for a moment. I felt at home, with the people who make me feel most myself. My favorite moment of the trip was when Eleri, Adam, and I were sitting around Adam’s dining room table, drinking tea (Adam remembered I take mine with milk and no sugar) and we were talking about what freaks we are. We shared laughs, wrote a song together (about cortados and oat milk), and I felt so known and understood after two months of feeling like a stranger everywhere I go.

Eleri, Adam and I goofing off in the Botanic Gardens

Every other time I’ve returned to a place that’s been so special to me—almost sacred—I’ve felt a sort of emptiness that comes with revisiting the same place in a different time. This trip couldn’t have been more different. I’d never experienced fall in Belfast, and it felt so fitting to see it in a way I hadn’t before: bursting with reds and oranges, overcast and thick with fog—just how I like it—so full of personality and quirk and pains of the past. I felt only gratitude and immense pride that I’ve been able to love a place over different periods of time and different versions of myself. 

The Lagan Meadows, perhaps my favorite spot on Earth

As the weekend came to a close, Eleri asked me, “How are you going to romanticize Bournemouth?” It was the right question to ask after such a weekend; this kind of happiness should not be reserved for a select few places—it should flow freely in the way that I approach every day. I think I needed to be reminded of how joyful I can feel so I’m less distant from it in the future. 

When I got back to Bournemouth, I had the most wonderful night playing my first ever full-band show, and nearly everyone I knew in Bournemouth attended. I felt so dang grateful that I was doing what I loved most in a city I’ve come to appreciate with people I can call my friends.

Next time, I promise I’ll actually talk about work and the reason I’m here! But I do believe my magical little weekend in Belfast gave me a new perspective and a new wave of energy to bring to my role in the charity as I move forward.

My band in Bournemouth

See!! Bournemouth can be beautiful!

Liz x

I’ve reached the point in my trip where the excitement and newness is wearing off and I’m settling into mundane rhythms. This is life now; it’s tea in the mornings, long bus rides, Harry Potter reruns and homemade dinners. It’s slow and sweet, and I’m learning to be patient with it. The last two weeks in both my work and my personal life have been rather slow, but there are still things to look back on and be grateful for.

This week was half-term (or fall break), and last week’s workshop got canceled, so I’ve spent the remaining time devising a songwriting workshop and an adult writing group. Last week my boss and I met with the leader of a local charity that works with families to discuss a full-family workshop, one where kids and parents break off and each attend a unique writing session. If we go through with this, I would lead the adult session! To prepare, I combed through old writing prompts from my English classes and Porch workshops to gather some ideas. As much as I’ve enjoyed working with kids, I’m very excited about the prospect of an adult group. I think there’s a lack of spaces in Bournemouth for adults, specifically in their twenties and thirties, to share their art and writing, so I want to help foster a space like that. 

My biggest challenge in devising these classes and in setting up our regular workshops has been what you’d think would be the easiest part: emails. It is so hard to get a prompt reply especially from teachers, so it’s been a little discouraging to feel like I’m not making any progress. In the meantime, I’ll keep chasing people up and work to strengthen the class plans. 

A sweet comment from a recent workshop. Someone found a new friend!

My mental health and personal life has also seen a bit of a slump. A combination of conflict back home, dreary weather, and a nasty cold resulted in more screen time and me feeling overall less present. Despite that, I’m still trying to get out and maintain my rituals. My weekly fiddle lessons, youth group, and football practice have been helpful in establishing a rhythm and helping me regularly see people. I have at least one good friend outside of work who I frequently hang out with, and we’ve been making our way through the Harry Potter films together. 

When I’m feeling down, I find it helpful to compile a list of the things that made me happy in a day or over the course of a week. Here are a few things that have brightened my mood recently and reminded me that there is always beauty around:

1. On a particularly sad day, a rainbow appeared on my run. It’s the only rainbow I’ve seen here thus far, and it only lasted for a few minutes, but I think I was meant to see it.
2. My friend Alex and I made a really delicious dinner, combining my favorite salad recipe and his favorite pasta recipe. 
3. Even though I wasn’t there to see it, my band (The Scarecrows) played a Halloween show in my hometown and stayed with my parents. It made my heart explode to witness that crossover.
4. I got to see the New Forest with my boss Dee and his wife Mel. The New Forest used to be King Henry VIII’s private hunting grounds, and today wild horses and ponies roam it.
5. I made a new friend from America!

Rainbow!

Horses in the New Forest

As of writing this, I have a few exciting adventures ahead of me: I’m flying to Belfast this upcoming weekend to see my friend and fellow LUMOS recipient Eleri, I’m visiting my friend Lydia in mid November, and my family is coming to visit me in December! There’s lots to be grateful for, and I’m excited for what’s ahead. 

Elisabeth

The weeks are going by faster and faster, and I’m reminded of how quickly these next eight months will come and go. I’ve settled into a rhythm here in Bournemouth, and I’ve found myself a bit stagnant: I haven’t been trying as many new things as I was two weeks ago, and I’m spending more time working or in my room. It’s not a bad thing, but I want to make sure I’m continuing to stretch myself and making the most of my time here.

Since I last wrote, two big things have happened: (1) I visited London, and (2) my charity ran our first workshop of the season, and I attended my first few meetings as the face of the charity. 

First, London. Just before I left Nashville I discovered that my friend and mix engineer, Sam Jenkins, would be touring with an act in London about a month after I was set to arrive. I thought this would be the perfect excuse to venture outside of Bournemouth for the first time and see a familiar face. One of my favorite musicians, Orla Gartland, was playing just outside of London a few days prior, so I thought I’d make a weekend out of it. I learned a few important lessons from this trip, as follows:

1. I don’t need to be a tourist in a city I’ve already been to, unless I’m with friends or there for an event. The time I spent walking around London by myself was quite lonely. I found myself revisiting the same places I’d been to a year, two years ago, but without the people that made it special then. Two out of three nights I stayed with my friend Mik, who I met through writing events with The Porch in Nashville, and the day that we spent walking through their old neighborhood in the East End was a highlight for me. It was good to see the city through a new perspective, one where I can make new memories instead of simply revisiting old ones.
2. My perception of a city is so closely tied to who I experience it with. I’ve known three Londons now, and each is so different from the last. I’ve always been keen on moving to London, but I see even more now that it would be very difficult without a friend by my side. 
3. Buy a portable charger. It’s funny how much my weekend was thrown off because my phone died several times after not charging through the night. 

An evening near Hyde Park

Getting to talk to Sam after his set was worth all the tassel and loneliness the rest of the weekend held. It’s so nice to have a friend, someone I don’t have to introduce myself to or trade get-to-know-you questions with. It filled my soul with a warmth I didn’t know I needed, and I was just so proud to see fellow Belmont grads playing at a big theater in London. They really mean it when they say From Here to Anywhere. 

The view from Mik and Lilly’s house. Autumn is fully here in England!!

Classic fish and chips dinner. It was overpriced, but I needed it.

Second, the workshop! I was nervous at the start of the session, but it went so well. The kids were hilarious (my favorite idea, which was shot down, was about a Spider Toilet, operated by Mr. Beast, whose biggest foe is a large roll of toilet paper), and they seemed very excited to write. One of the things I love most about The Story Works is that we empower both the students and our volunteers, so two of our volunteers from Bournemouth University led the session and many more illustrated the childrens’ work or served as writing mentors. It’s cool to see how their confidence grows from the start to the end of the session.

The next two days I went to a few meetings alone to speak for the charity. The first was with a big construction group who wanted to promote our charity on their hoardings, and the next was a school for teens and adults learning English as a second language. Neither felt like a typical business meeting—both parties were simply passionate about interacting with the local community and being a part of something good, and that was encouraging to witness. I didn’t feel like I lacked knowledge or experience despite only living here for a month; all those I spoke with were excited about the work I was doing and commended me for coming from America all by myself. I left the meetings feeling encouraged and more confident about my abilities as a charity manager. 

Apart from that, I ran an impromptu half marathon and released a new song (you can listen here)! 

Bournemouth Half Marathon! I ran for my boss, who wasn’t able to run it.

Until the next time,

Elisabeth

A lot can happen in two weeks.

Two weeks ago I had no friends outside of my host family and job, I wasn’t involved in any activities or organizations, and I hadn’t even started my official job. As I write this I have a few friends, I’m a part of several local organizations, and I’ve started my work full-force.

Let me start from the beginning: Scottish Dancing. One fateful Monday night I decided to attend a traditional dance at the Scottish Society, a club for those of Scottish heritage or those interested in Scottish culture that met just down my street. I was desperate to make friends and meet new people, so I decided to pop in with my house mate’s partner, Melissa, since I had nothing better to do. Were Melissa and I the only people under the age of sixty? Yes. But something really beautiful happened at the end of the night: one of the dancers, Nicola, invited me to her church, and it just so happened to be the church that I was planning on visiting that weekend. That following Sunday I met so many kind people and even made a few friends my age. Since then, I’ve started taking fiddle lessons (something I’ve always wanted to do!), joined a football (soccer) club and a running club, started playing at open jams (I would have never done this a year ago), attended my church’s youth group, and formed a full live band. 

This is the church where I take fiddle lessons! What a dream!

There’s something very humbling about starting back at square one. For years I haven’t had to go out of my way to make new friends, but the only way I’ll make any now is to intentionally put myself in social settings. I’m scanning the signs on every lamppost, checking the weekly events at cafes, searching for signs of compatibility in the strangers I pass on the street. It’s exciting to have a major life shake-up. Now is the time I can be all of the versions of myself I’ve always wanted to be but never had the time for, and I’m proud of how I’ve handled it thus far. 

Last week we went to the city library to hang up all the activity sheets I handed out to schools.

This past weekend was the Arts by the Sea Festival, the event I’d been promoting at primary schools during my first few weeks here. Lots of families stopped by to hear more about our charity and engage in some story-based activities. Several adults expressed interest in either helping promote our charity or attending workshops with us, and it dawned on me that I was the one who’d be making these decisions. Our founder, Dee, said that I could design an adult class if I wanted to, even though it’s something we’ve never done before. It’s new and exciting to have all this freedom, but I’ve also been met with the age-old imposter syndrome. I’ve never run a charity before, so I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know that I’m passionate about our charity’s cause and can figure things out. 

Me and our student volunteers at the Arts by the Sea Festival

Something I have struggled with is how to schedule my time and find a good work-life balance: I want to design a new songwriting course and an adult writing group, but that’s extra work on top of my pre-existing work. This job will be entirely what I make of it, so I want to push myself to work hard and try new things, but I also want to enjoy my time here without stressing too much. I’m currently working on finding that happy medium. 

All in all, I’m so grateful that I get to be here, and I’m excited to see how my life will continue to surprise me.

Bournemouth beach 

English majors will get this. Shout out to my ENG 200 class and Dr J. I miss y’all.

Well folks, I made it! I’ve spent nearly a week in England, and it has both been a whirlwind and has stretched by slowly. Let me update you:

The journey there was quite breezy. The last time I traveled internationally by myself, I felt a huge weight once I stepped into the security line and said goodbye to my parents, but this time I felt a lot more relaxed. It’s good to know that this process is getting easier for me. 

Leaving my family at IND

Once I arrived, my host dad, George, picked me up from the bus station and drove me to the house I’ll be staying at for the next nine months. It’s a sweet two-story home on a very traditionally English street: each house is practically indistinguishable sans its door, which tends to be colored brightly to contrast the uniformity found elsewhere. The inside is full of brightly colored walls, pastel sofas, and a diverse collection of abstract art. I quickly met Ed and Sally, the other two who share the home. Sally is a social work professor at Bournemouth University, George is a gardener, and Ed, their son, is a musician. Upon meeting Ed, he showed me his studio, played me a few of his tracks (it’s just like I haven’t left Nashville), and even offered up one of his guitars for me to use during my stay. I felt very welcomed.

My room

Ed’s studio

My first walk into town was less of a welcoming experience: the nearest “high street” (a street lined with shops) was full of boarded up buildings, vape shops, convenient stores, and plenty of places to buy kebabs that did not mirror the image of an idyllic English street I had conjured. I walked past the gloomy shops in my Victorian-looking long skirt and black turtleneck feeling like the most posh person in existence as others stared at me down. I felt like an outsider. 

It’s been hard not to compare Bournemouth to other UK cities I’ve visited or lived in. London, Manchester, and even Belfast cannot compare to here–Bournemouth is a town, not a city, (I learned that a city is classified so by the presence of a cathedral, which Bournemouth does not have) and it won’t have all of the components and activities that a bustling city has. Truth be told, I’ve never lived in a place that doesn’t have an arts theater or a string of local coffee shops within a ten minute drive, so living in a quieter area will be an adjustment. The past week has given me a greater appreciation for the vibrant arts community in Nashville—there’s simply nothing else like it, and I hope to never take that for granted.

Bournemouth Pier from afar

I didn’t have long to settle in before starting the first part of my job: going into primary schools to deliver a twenty minute assembly (presentation) about the Arts by the Sea Festival, a free arts festival sponsored by the government that my organization is helping out with. I was meant to go by myself, but the co-founder of the charity, Tom, offered to accompany me, which had me brimming with tears of relief. The kids were very interactive and enthused, and both my Thursday and Friday presentations went better than expected. Even though workshops have not begun, I already feel privileged to share this festival with children in low-income areas. Like many places in the UK, the arts are underfunded here, and children don’t often get to experience the arts for free. My life would be radically different without arts education, so I’m very grateful to play a small role in expanding that. 

Me before speaking to an assembly of 500 primary school kids

After the assemblies Tom drove me around, and we chatted about the cities we’d lived in and the jobs we’d worked.

“It’s my first time having to really make friends as an adult,” I told him. “I’m curious to see how I’ll do it.”

“Yeah… if you find out, let me know,” he replied. “With all my friends starting families and moving, it’s hard to stay in touch.”

His response was slightly deflating, but honest. This is going to be hard, and I will have to make a very active effort to go out and meet people. I called my parents last night to express my disappointment that I’d found work in Bournemouth instead of somewhere exciting like London or Manchester, but they reminded me that I need to trust and commit myself fully to this project. I must have the courage to seek out the beauty that’s here and to find my place. If I see an area of lack, I have the power, in whatever small ways I’m given, to address it. This place—and all places—are what you make of it, and I’m trying not to see Bournemouth as a place that’s lacking.

A lovely sunset to close out my week