The final trip of my Harlaxton experience is one I think about often. Most often, if I’m being honest. Every time I eat strawberries, I am watching a man scoop fresh strawberries into a brown…
Posts tagged marlaxton
Untold Stories of Harlaxton: Italia, I Really Love Ya
When Sarah J and I parted ways after a boujee French breakfast in Boujeetown, London, UK, Sarah went to take a ride on the London Eye and I went to Kings Cross. I spotted my…
Untold Stories of Harlaxton: My Week With Sarah J
When I found out I was actually going to Harlaxton, my friends all started talking about coming to visit me. We talked about the what-ifs of a fun spring break in Europe—taking a train to…
Untold Stories of Harlaxton: Edinburgh Round 2 (jk)
They say it doesn’t snow a lot in England. Well, my canceled trip, my stress acne, and my brother’s sadness will tell you otherwise. This is what was supposed to be the story of the…
Untold Stories of Harlaxton: The Best Day
I’m a ‘spend all day in a coffee shop’ kind of girl. Since we never really had a coffee shop in Jasper when I was growing up (shout out to Brew for being here now–you…
Untold Stories of Harlaxton: Dear Poland
In writing this blog post, my intention was not to make light of the Holocaust but to share my honest experience of my weekend in Poland. If I had to choose one thing to regret…
Untold Stories of Harlaxton: Isle of Man
Almost immediately after I’d hit the ‘confirm’ button and well before I’d booked my flight to Harlaxton, my oldest brother Kyle was planning his trip to come see me. Like all others who came to…
The Overwhelming So Fab Very Great Week
Dear friends, If you can believe it, it’s been a full two weeks since the day I was forced to take a final exam and leave my incredible English home all in the same day….
Finals Feelings: I have been found.
Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear? Like you could fall, and no one would hear? When I arrived at Harlaxton in January, part…
My French Teacher Would Be Ashamed
When I was in high school, one of the best parts of my day was French class with Mr. Rottet. By our fourth year of French, my class was practically a family. That’s right, I…