Five years ago today, I was with the study tour group in Chester.

I was ignominiously late to class because I had had to dry my hair--we were meeting outside in the cold for some reason--and the starting time hadn't been clearly communicated to me. So, more metaphorical Bad Student Points to add to the previous day's worth. We had been assigned an excerpt from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and the lecture was all about how the book is secretly about drugs, because in the nineteenth century people gave children bizarre concoctions to put them to sleep, so because this practice existed and Alice is dreaming and the presence of the "Drink Me" bottle, clearly this is the one and only explanation for what's going on. Any argument otherwise was shot down.

(This is what class was like. Every. dang. day. except for the one time that the other grad student and I had to fill in and teach our Wuthering Heights excerpt. On a train coming back from Whitby, crowded with schoolchildren. Whole nother story.)

We had high tea at an Alice-themed tea room (which tragically no longer exists) in honor of a birthday in our group. Every place was set with a plate, saucer, and cup in mismatched china patterns, to charming effect. A plain white cup was pointed out to me--wouldn't you much rather have this one? seeing it's so plain and...Puritan? and you're a Puritan, Rebekah! (A derogatory designation that had been made for me the previous day.)

But childish pettiness from a grown man aside, the tea room experience was magical. There were teacups hung by strings in the front windows, the chandeliers had multicolored shades, and the tables were strewn with confetti stars. I don't drink tea and ordered hot chocolate, and they brought it in a tall glass, topped with cream and marshmallows. Our tea arrived on three tiered stands piled with scones and sandwiches and multicolored macarons and elaborate cupcakes. We had a glorious, probably sugar-overdosed time, and I've been trying to recreate the gist of it every year when the group gets back together.

I don't remember what we did the rest of the day. Wandered the streets, maybe. Chester is full of timbered Tudor-style buildings in striking black-on-white, and it's like going back in time (visually, architecturally, at least--everyone in town is very much modern-day, going about their business in centuries-old buildings as casually as if they were not a gorgeous piece of history). There's a bridge with an ornate clock, and walls where people hang up their art (including some DW fan art because why not). It was such a different atmosphere from any city I had been to before, and I wish I had been able to take it in more fully.

Someday I'm going back. Maybe not specifically to Chester, but the UK has not seen the last of me.