Rambling About Europe: London

When you last heard from me, I was getting ready to leave the chaotic Naples airport and head back to possibly my favorite city in the world: London.

The flight was relatively uneventful. (Although at one point, a man in my row asked a complete stranger if he could drink from his water bottle to take some pills, and the man said, “Yes.” I found that pretty disgusting.) I touched down in the outskirts of London at about 7:00pm and made my way via underground trains to central London. Things became a little more interesting when, on the first train, I realized that I didn’t know where my hostel was. I had always looked up directions to the hostel the night before, but this time, I fell out of my routine. I did have the address; I just had no idea where in London that address was. After trying my luck with four or five people on the train, I eventually found some British businessman who was able to help me. Cheers to him.

Unfortunately for me, I arrived in London in the middle of the tube-workers’ strike. If you’ve ever been to London, you know that everyone gets around on the tube. As I tried to get to my hostel that evening, some train lines were down, and others stopped suddenly or skipped my stops altogether. I really wasn’t travelling that far, but I had to take a ridiculously round-about way to reach my stop. This was the longest day of travel ever.

But even that doesn’t cover how unprepared I was. You may remember that, earlier in the day, I was in a beach town in southern Italy climbing a hill in the sun with 40+lbs of luggage on my back. Accordingly, I was wearing shorts and a thin t-shirt. In fact, the weather for my entire trip thus far had been perfect – between 80 and 100 degrees. But I was so excited to get to London that I hadn’t really planned ahead. When I surfaced from the Russell Square tube stop around 8:30 at night, it was pouring down rain.

Tired and completely uninterested in unpacking in a subway station to find warmer clothes, I just set out toward the Generator – one of the more popular hostels in London – which, according to my impromptu navigation lesson with British strangers, was supposed to be about three long blocks away. It only took about one block before I was soaked to the bone, and at that point, what’s more rain? Of course, I couldn’t find the hostel right away; that would be too easy. But when I popped into a stop-and-shop to ask for directions, he saw the pack on my back and directed me down the street to the hostel before I could even ask.

I thought that I looked pretty ridiculous as I walked up to the front desk literally dripping wet in soaked beach clothes, but the staff didn’t seem to notice. It was clear that they see a ton of backpackers every day. Though it really was not that fancy, the Generator was one of my favorite hostels of the trip. For starters, it was huge; there were tons of travelers there. And the place ran like a well oiled machine. It was a cool place to stay, and though I was there by myself, I met plenty of nice people. It definitely was the most authentic hostel experience that I had on my trip, and I’m glad that I stayed there.

In general, my time in London was a nice change of pace. Since I had previously lived in London for months at a time, I didn’t really feel compelled to visit any tourist attractions. That in itself was handy considering the general state of chaos that the city was in without its subway system. The people didn’t know what to do with themselves. The streets were packed, and the buses passing by were bursting at the seams. Thankfully, with nothing I really had to do, I just walked around the city. And I walked a lot. I took my jacket with me from then on, and of course, it never rained on me again, so I had to carry it everywhere. But the shorts-and-t-shirt part of my trip was definitely over. I don’t think that the shorts came back out.

For most of my time in London, I either took it easy in the hostel, as I listened to British TV and music and caught up on the blog, or I walked around. Over the course of those few days, I walked all over London. I walked through the financial district and by St. Paul’s Cathedral. I walked all along the river – past Parliament, the Eye, and the Globe. I walked through Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, Covent Garden, Oxford Street… all of it. And I really enjoyed myself. I only really did one touristy thing the whole time I was there – I visited the world famous Tate Modern museum that I never had gotten around to last time.

(I couldn't resist posting this picture from the museum of a picture in a museum of a picture in a museum: Modern Art.)

But mostly, I walked. I didn’t need a map. Everything just came back to me. In fact, people were asking me for directions. And I’ll confess that I answered half of them in a fake British accent just to see exactly how much I could get away with. Immature? Yes, but fun nonetheless. Anyway, I always knew where I was, and I stopped by familiar spots here and there. I went into some of the bars where we used to hang out and past restaurants we had eaten at years ago. I kept thinking either, “Hey, that place is gone now.” or “That looks exactly the same.”

I also spent one evening walking around the neighborhood where we used to live. That was particularly fun. I passed our old classrooms, the building I had to walk to use the internet, and the amazing cookie place down the street. I even followed a 20-year-old kid into our apartment building and was able to look around a little. It was good to be back.

But I didn’t spend all of my time in London by myself. My friend Jacquie has been living in London for well over a year now, and I was lucky that she could meet me for dinner on two of my three nights there. It was great to catch up with her, and it was really nice to see a familiar face in the middle of my trip. She also lives in the neighborhood where I used to work, so I got to stroll around that areas and reminisce as well. I had a really good time with her, and I was glad that we could meet up.

We also scored a huge victory in finally locating Tesco’s Strawberry Granola Cereal. As poor, struggling students, my friends and I used to eat it all the time when we lived in London, and we never found anything that could compare back in the States. I must have stopped in half of a dozen stores hoping to find a box, and I came out empty handed every time. But on my last night there, Jacquie and I finally found some – in a new box and with a new name, but it was the right stuff. Despite the fact that it would take up 25% of my backpack, I bought two boxes for train rides, and it didn’t last long.

I have to admit that before I arrived in London, I was worried that I would be disappointed this time around. Last time, I was there with 30+ friends, and this time I would be there mostly alone. But when all was said and done, I had enjoyed my visit quite a lot. I really enjoy the culture in London and even just people-watching on the streets. It actually felt a little like coming home. I also owe a thank you to Jacquie for making it that much more fun.