I was sitting in a taxi on my way to Wellesley, a handful of American monopoly money in my back pocket. I had no real idea what I was getting myself into. I had come from the University of Manchester to study at Wellesley College for a semester, cross registering at MIT. Boston and Wellesley would be my home for the next five months, before heading back to Manchester for my final year. Both extremely exhausted and simultaneously extremely enthusiastic (an unnerving mix of feelings), I arrived in a snow covered Wellesley. As I was to discover, my expectation and the reality can be two very different things.