This time last year, we had just returned from a week in London. This is kind of embarassing to admit for a European history major, but it was the first time I had ever been to Europe. I love British history, so the trip was really special for me. One moment that I keep going back to happened on out first day in the city. We had arrived the night before at around 10:00, and after having been in transit for about fifteen hours, we just collapsed in the hotel room, so bright an early that morning, we were ready for some exploring. We took the Underground from our hotel to the Westminster station, and by dumb luck, I picked the right exit, because climbing the stairs up to the street, all I could see was the Clock Tower of Westminster Palace (a.k.a Big Ben) rising up in front of me. It was a perfect moment, because it hit me all of a sudden that I was, in fact, in England, not just reading about it or thinking about it. I was there, and for once, I was happy that I didn’t have to use my imagination anymore.