Day 1— It was the first time I walked the streets of Paris in french braids, and though the name of the plait is suitable to this country, I felt like an 11 year old outsider. But I was about to be on a bus all night, what else was I going to do? We departed from Bercy at 9pm.
Day 2— We got to the border check around 2am. If you ask me if it took way longer than necessary, then the answer will be: yes, yes it did. We missed our train in the Chunnel (the Channel Tunnel) which consequently meant hanging around at a Starbucks at 4 in the morning. The night was awful, and I got less than 2 hours of sleep all together. But it didn't even matter because we exited the lovely Tube and saw this:
Straightaway we purchased our 3-day Oyster cards for the Tube, which meant we didn't even bother working our way from one side of the map to the other, but instead went where we pleased when we pleased. Sidebar: The Tube is a whole new ballgame for public transport, and completely puts the Parisian metropolitan to shame. In Paris, I wonder on a daily basis how many diseases I'll extract by touching anything. In London, I could have licked the metro floor and still have been fine eating a sandwich afterward. I tip my hat London, you classy people who take baths and use smart lengthy words that put stars in my eyes. ...Wait, where was I?
Day 2— We got to the border check around 2am. If you ask me if it took way longer than necessary, then the answer will be: yes, yes it did. We missed our train in the Chunnel (the Channel Tunnel) which consequently meant hanging around at a Starbucks at 4 in the morning. The night was awful, and I got less than 2 hours of sleep all together. But it didn't even matter because we exited the lovely Tube and saw this:
Straightaway we purchased our 3-day Oyster cards for the Tube, which meant we didn't even bother working our way from one side of the map to the other, but instead went where we pleased when we pleased. Sidebar: The Tube is a whole new ballgame for public transport, and completely puts the Parisian metropolitan to shame. In Paris, I wonder on a daily basis how many diseases I'll extract by touching anything. In London, I could have licked the metro floor and still have been fine eating a sandwich afterward. I tip my hat London, you classy people who take baths and use smart lengthy words that put stars in my eyes. ...Wait, where was I?
We dropped our things at our hostel and walked. We found cute houses like the above, and Paddington Cemetery. Eventually we came to Abbey Road where everyone and their dogs were walking across, but there were way too many cars for the iconic Beatles photo remake. We jumped on a bus to Baker Street where we found a happy police man in front of 221b. (Sherlock, anyone?) By this point, hAnger was starting to burn holes in our stomachs, so we found a top rated (but not as good as Seattle) fish and chips joint where I also ate mushy peas! We walked around Westminster Abbey, the banks of the Thames, saw Clock Tower, the Coca-Cola London Eye, and finished up with seeing Admiral Horatio Nelson's statue in Trafalagar Square. He's my relative, you know. The sun set at 4:45pm which was absolutely koo-koo-banana-crackers but we were so tired that we didn't care to put up a fight with the sun.
Day 3— I woke up with this song in my head but it altered to this song as we stepped outside and my feet were soaked in seconds! Either way, Fred was there for me, and my insides were happy. The rain burned off as we got into town bright and early for our vintage, red, double decker, tour bus! We essentially looped around all of the things we previously walked around, but it was even better with our hilarious guide, Allen. ("The building to your right, it was a bank but now it's a pub. That's called progress." —Allen)
We walked around London Tower and hopped on a boat which took us past Shakespeares Globe and off at The Eye. We jumped back on our bus to go to Buckingham just in time for the changing of the guard! My Australian radar was on, and I met a lovely couple. Wow I forgot how nice it is to speak English. And also be able to eavesdrop. You really forget about the little things, like easy communication when you've lived in France for so long! After our tour, we jumped on another bus which took us 2.5hours west of London to Wiltshire where we saw the ever puzzling Stonehenge. The countryside was beautiful! And the rooftops we passed were rumoured to be the rooftops danced on in Mary Poppins... Hmm..
Our bus driver made it clear he wasn't a tour guide, but that didn't stop him from monotonously tell us little fun facts about the things we passed. I'm sure people were SO done with his dad-jokes, and only my stomach curdling laughter. (Traffic already backed up at the on ramp for the highway home: "We're not off to a good start................to our right is a pig farm................This is a nice once. Those little domes are their houses........PIGloos.") Stonehenge was amazing, but what I wasn't prepared for was how gorgeous the surrounding scenery would be! Did you realize there would be a flock of sheep just outside of it? Or that as the sun set you'd feel like you were walking on the set of Pride and Prejudice during the Dawn scene? Breathtakingly incredible.
Day 4— By now I'm convinced I'll be living here. At the very least in the U.K. someday. It's gorgeous and people have their crap together. Young families had the most polite children, and who wouldn't want to live in a columned white house with a checkered tiled floor for the outside entry? Oh my gosh it's the dream. We started our day by going way out of our way to Cereal Killer Cafe because, well, CEREAL. It was a dream come true.
Afterward we went right next door for second breakfasts. Because it was cute and they sold pairs of socks in tin-cans. So...obviously? The woman working there was so friendly, after about 30 seconds we were already talking about Thanksgiving plans and if she could join. That may sound weird, but for someone who has been craving friendly store conversation, I loved every second. We enjoyed a cup of tea and were on our way again.
We rented bicycles for the day for £2 and I couldn't help but think about watching old family home videos of Dad and Grandpa's London trip...And how I was here now doing the things they did. We cycled between Green Park by Buckingham Palace, through Hyde Park, near my grandpa's mission apartment, and into Kensington Garden. We couldn't for the life of us find Nottinghill, but I suppose that means I'll find it next time.
Just as the "sun" (there really wasn't any) was "setting" we got in line for our ride on the London Eye. We saved loads of time by purchasing tickets in advance online. The ride was 30 minutes long, looping around once. By the time we got off, it was dark out, and misting rain. Souvenirs were bought, dinner and lovely conversation were had at Marks&Spencer, and on a whim we scouted out St. Paul's Churchyard and sang on the steps "Feed the birds, tuppance a bag". Before bed, I wrote postcards in the sick-ward (aka, my hostel room) and then fell soundly asleep.
Day 5— On this day we bid the attractive men, the beautiful accents, and the gorgeous scenery, goodbye. Back on the bus we went, but this time in the daylight where we could see beautiful Northern France.
I can't explain the happy feeling I got any time I saw the adorable black taxi cabs drive on the wrong side of the road, or the plethora of red telephone booths in London. Walking along the nicely lit pier by Tower Bridge, and just being able to take a nap on those cute beds. Even King's Cross Station had the magic in it! ...Gah. It's a trip for the books, that is for sure. London, I will be back.
