When you have traveled, seen and experienced as much as I have, sometimes its easy to become jaded, especially when in a place like London. Last night I flew in to Heathrow for my eighteen hour layover. I stood in line waiting to go through customs, experiencing slight culture shock as a flight from Africa had appeared to have gotten in right before mine from Helsinki. I stared a little bit, but the native dress that some of the passengers had on was intriguing, as I work in a clothing store so I am always looking to see what people have on. I also was trying to play my guess what country they are from game, failing horribly as I could only tell what continent they were from. I know some of them were staring back at me, probably wondering where the hell I was from, with half my hair shaved off and a shirt that’s mostly in Ukrainian, except for “Wiz-Art”. Basically I look like a hipster rockstar, which made me slightly worry about going through passport control and think that I had drugs on me or something. It was my turn to go through and I got a white late 20 something guy as my inspector. He asked how long I was going to be in the country and I told him one day. He asked where I was coming from. Ukraine. He asked what the purpose of my trip to Ukraine had been, at this point I had been traveling for almost 24 hours, a 15 hour train ride from Lviv to Kiev, a plane ride from Kiev to Helsinki and now London. That morning on the train I had, had about six shots of vodka for breakfast and I am going to blame it on that, but I just said “I went there for a guy.” I know I shouldn’t have, as I am suppose to be serious and mature when going through customs, but I just had to. He started laughing and asked me smiling, if it had been worth it. I said yes, blushing. Now some of you may be wondering who this guy was, well you can guess, but I will nether confirm or deny any guesses.
My passport was stamped right after that and moved along to baggage carousel, I looked for a few moments, not spotting my pink and white poke-a-dot bag and went to ask if it had just been checked through to Boston. It had. Just my luck. The clothes I was wearing, I had, had on since Thursday and it was now Monday (yes I know that’s kind of nasty, but they didn’t really smell, until now.) All of my toiletries were in my checked suitcase too. I though to myself oh well, its not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. I am sure I could have gotten my bag if I had started crying or something, but I didn’t really feel like dragging it around London.
I fallowed the singes to the underground, located Gloucester Road Station, on the Piccadilly line, and got on the nice modern train, compared to Lviv’s trams. I choose to stand with my camera in my hand, and my classy L.L. Bean signature collection backpack on, looking like a photographer rockstar. I am sure that’s what the people in my car thought, if they didn’t then clearly they aren’t in the know of awesomeness when they see it. I took a few shots when the doors would open if there was something that interested me. The late afternoon was dreary with rain falling lightly and typically depressing.
When I got off at my tube stop, I clomped in my red cowboy-boots, through a strong mist, in the direction towards what I hoped was my hostel. I had a feeling that I was going to wrong way, so I stopped to ask a few passerby's, but one issue with London is that it is such a tourist destination that most likely when you stop someone, they are not going to be from there, which was the case this day. I ended up stopping this short petite lady in her late 50’s, with a red umbrella that looked too big for her, even though I thought she might be put off with the way I look. She didn’t live in London, but she knew where Queen’s Court was and fallowed me until I found it.
I checked into my hostel that for some reason was full of loud French and Italian speaking twelve year-olds. I was tempted to turn around and head back to Heathrow and tough it out in one of the terminals until my plane took off at a little passed noon the next day if it meant I would have to hear them play tag all night.
I got my key and took the lift up to the 6th floor and found my room. It was a nice four bed dorm with a sink in it. I tried to charge in my laptop, only to find out that England has different plugs then the rest of Europe. Bravo England, really lets have a slow clap for how much seance this makes. So I went back down to the lobby to get an adapter and also ask where the closest Gap was, so I could hopefully get a new shirt and maybe even a pair of jeans. The girl laughed at me and said they were closed, it was a bank holiday. Bank holiday? Really!? At this point between the luggage, plugs, and now everything being closed I thought it was one horrible joke. I had planned on getting some sight seeing in, but I had, had enough and decided that just getting dinner would be ok. It was too cold to wonder around without a jacket on anyways. I walked a little down the street looking at places to eat and I found a Middle Eastern dinner type place, that also served fast-food type food. I ordered fishcakes with chips, oddly enough it came with a side of beans. I normally never eat fish, but I knew that it would be horribly processed, barley tasting like the real thing and I was in London, so I just had to have fish and chips because its what any good tourist would do. The food was edible, but I seriously hope the Middle Eastern cuisine was loads better, it looked it at least. When I went up to pay the guy at the counter started smiling and laughing a little and went “Ok I’m sorry but I have to ask why your shirt is covered with lipstick kisses.” I then started laughing too and told him that I had a wild drunk night a few nights back and gave him a sweet mischievous smile, thanked him and walked out the door. The funny thing is that those kisses aren’t from a girl, but a guy who stole my lipstick when I was putting it on the other night and started putting it on himself and then we ended leaving lipstick kisses everywhere. There were even some left on a friends bathroom mirror, I don’t think he’s found them yet.
After I left the dinner I went to a Tesco Express. I was so excited to be back in one, as I had fallen in love with the grocery store when I was in Prague two years ago. I have an odd obsession with grocery stores in general, maybe its because my dad works for one and I grew up getting dragged into them when a new one was built or hearing about new products and lines that were coming out. When I travel its one of the first places I go when I get to a new town. Most of the time I don’t buy that much, but I like to see what they have. On this excursion I bought a two liter bottle of water and headed for the chocolate, walking passed the Krispy Kreams that I slightly lusted for. I ended up with two Aero chocolate bars, one was milk and the other was mint, and to my delight the mint one was bright green inside. I also opted for a bag of Cadbury Chocolate Buttons. I normally would not have chosen something so normal, but I had seen them on an episode of a TV show that was about the postal service in New Zealand and someone had sent a package of them with ecstasy hidden inside of them. I knew there wouldn’t be any drugs in mine, but I still went with them.
I went back to my hostel and settled in for the night with my chocolate and started photo editing. This might stress some people out, but normally it calms me and puts me in a better mood, which I needed with the balmy weather. I decided to go to bed around midnight and set my alarm for 7am.
The next morning I woke up around 5:30 to a shining sun. I decided to get up, not fully aware of what time it really was and take a shower, even though I was just putting my dirty clothes back on. A guy in my room let me use his shampoo, and I found some body wash. I was excited to see that the bathroom had a towel heater in it and I put my clothes on there too, mostly so they wouldn’t be balled up on the cold floor. I took my shower and when I was putting my cloths back on I bent down to pick something up that had fallen and my upper arm on brushed the heater, burning myself. I swore out loud and looked to see that it probably wasn't going to be that bad of a burn. I moved into the main part of the bathroom to use the hair dryer and opened the window wide so I could the soft rising morning sun the roofs of the houses surrounding me.
I went back to my room, gathered my camera and then got the lift down to the lobby. On my way to the tube I passed a Parisian bakery where the smell of fresh bread came wafting out. I stopped and looked at the window in at the baguettes, pastries filled with jam and chocolate and empty spaces that would be soon filled and then emptied again by hungry early morning Londoners.
I made my way to the ticket machine and tried to figure out which ticket option would best suit my excursion of the day. Given that I had limited time and did not have a map of London I got a pass that would let me ride unlimited all day. I decided to first go to see Westminster as it was the closest. When I got off at the stop I had to walk down a long tile hallway that took a turn and sunlight replaced artificial light. I could see the London Eye on the left side of the tunnel and I just started running. The river shown in the morning sun and I turned around and there was Big Ben. I don’t know what over took me but I started gasping, and teared up, and my hands started doing that waving flapping things that women do when they are having a strong emotional response to something. I have never really had a strong yearning to go to London so my reaction was quite unexpected, but highly enjoyable at the same time because I know I will never forget it. I started taking pictures trying to capture the essence of being there to share with other people, mostly my close family back home as I am the one who keeps pushing them to travel more. It can get lonely on the road at times and I want to share moments with people I care about. Please take note that, that was not an open invitation to travel with me. I am still highly selective and probably always will be.
I started walking on a bridge that went from the Big Ben side of the river over to the London Eye, sometimes I walked facing forward and then I would turn around and walk backwards and snap a picture. Since it was only around 6:30am the only other people on the bridge with me were joggers and runners, who probably thought that I was coming back from a night of clubbing. I walked to the bridge that was in one of the Harry Potter movies, for those of you who don’t know I am obsessed with Harry Potter. While walking on it I thought I felt it sway a little bit and was worried about the Death Eaters coming and blowing it up with me on it. Thank goodness that didn’t happen and I disappeared once again into the depths of the Tube.
Buckingham Palace was next on the list. Walking from the station the street was lined with shops selling everything William and Kate’s smiling faces could be plastered on.
I walked passes signs telling me that “Trespassing is a criminal offense”. Sadly since it was stated in English I couldn’t take a stroll on the palace grounds in hopes of spotting Harry and when upon getting caught, play the stupid American game that I can pull off in Ukraine. When I reached the front of the palace it didn’t over whelm me or fill me with any kind of emotional response. It just looked like a really huge European government building with a gate around it. It also was early in the day so the guards that stand in front were not there and I think that was also a bit of a let down, but on the bright side there were not that many tourists to get in the way when I was photographing.
I knew that time was running short so I started heading down The Mall, which runs through a park, ending up in Trafalgar Square. I decided that I was going to head to King’s Cross Station to find Platform 9 and 3/4.
Yes I am a Harry Potter fanatic. The whole tub ride there I kept checking my watching, knowing that I had very little time to get back to the hostel to check out on time and make it to the airport. As soon as I got to King’s Cross I rushed to platform 9, only to find out that they were doing construction on it, meaning my picture was a no-go. (Rumor has it that there was a place in the station where a trolly is half stuck in a wall and has a sign that says “Platform 9 and 3/4”, I however only found this out after my trip.)
With no time to feel defeated I ran back and hopped on the tube, back to my hostel. I stood impatiently in my grungy clothes, listening to Lady Sovereign on my ipod, praying that I would have enough time to get to the airport when I noticed a guy looking at me. He looked like he was in his early 30’s, black with dreads and in a proper suit, not some cheep one that you sale at JCPenny’s because you have to go to court for your baby daddy hearing, but a nice one that you went to Saks and dropped $500 or more on. He was eyeing me all up and down and I just looked away and smiled to myself. I thought I looked horrible that day, without makeup, hair not done and close to a week in the same clothes, apparently not to this guy and I was going to take that as an epic win for the day. He shortly got off a few stops later and I was left to dwell about what could have been, had I lived in London. It probably would have included me singing Britney Spears “Womanizer” or something along those lines.
I got off at my stop and went back to the hostel to return my stupid plug adapter and check out of my hostel. I went back to the bakery that I had passed a few hours earlier at the start of my early morning romp. The place was now packed and a long line almost to the door had formed, which suited me just fine as I pulled all of my coins, up to count how much money I had to spend. I looked over all of the pastries and settled one that had apricots on top of it. I can’t say that I am a huge apricot fan, its not from dis-liking them, but more never really being exposed to them. In the States its all about apples and in Maine blueberries. I honestly have no issue with this as when done properly apple pie and blueberry muffins are delicious. I also got a poppy baguette and one of those little pasties with chocolate inside. After I left with my over indulgent goodies, I went to Tesco and bought a liter of orange juice to drink on my forty minuet tube ride back to the airport, where I made it to my plane with plenty of time to spare.
