Mind the Gap- It’s LONDON BABY!
So Matt left and my vacation was officially over on July 4, 2018. The next 60 hours I was legitimately depressed. Not only was I experiencing the normal post-vacation withdrawal, but I was experiencing a post-Matt withdrawal AND had to go back to an Italian world that, let’s be honest, hadn’t been so easy.
And ON TOP of all that, I had to move apartments haha. Apparently they wanted to do some flooring work in my apartment so they had asked me sometime in June if I would mind moving to a different unit. Of course I said OK, so I got a letter right before vacation saying that my keys would be ready for me to move the first week in July. I took that Thursday night to relocate all of my possessions up a floor. Goodness.
Luckily, though, I had planned a trip to London for that weekend. When I booked it, I almost thought “Man, I am crazy. I will have been travelling for 10 days straight, and then I am going to immediately fly outside of the EU on a trip?? I am going to HATE myself.” Turns out, a trip to London was exactly what I needed.
So we begin this tale at the Airport of Malpensa. It was the 6th of July and the year was 2018. It was a Friday. Probably hot. I had left work at the approximate hour of 17:00 and traveled by metropolitan railway to the Central Station of Milan, aka, Milano Centrale, then caught the train to this magical place.
I mean, look at this cloud...
I made it through security and decided to stop at a small cafe for dinner. I ordered and waited by a counter to the left for a bit (it was kind of fast-food place… or whatever they call the Panera type establishments).. But then I saw them hand food to other customers over the counter on the OTHER side. So I went and grabbed a table right in front of the OTHER counter. A stream of maybe 6 people then came through, ordered and sat down. Of course, then, a number of sandwiches were put out on the ORIGINAL counter, which included mine, and the people who ordered after me took it!
They eventually got me my panini, and it was an honest mistake, sure, but I was a little irritated.
I then decided I would go to my gate and write for a bit (I knew I had my work cut out for me in writing about vacation!). I turned the corner annndd… crap. I TOTALLY forgot that when you are flying REAL international (meaning not within the EU, which therefore now means when you fly to the UK) you go through customs in ITALY before you even leave. I almost started laughing to myself as I got in the long, long, long line. It didn’t help that everyone and their mother thought that they were in a bigger rush than everyone else, so they would just storm past you in line without asking.
Sigh.
I finally got through customs to find out my flight was delayed by about an hour, and they didn’t even have a gate for me yet. So I did what I do- I popped a squat on the floor and opened up my laptop.
After they finally announced a gate for my flight, I walked to said gate, grabbed a couple more snacks, and popped another squat on the floor over there. They finally announce that they will start boarding. One side of the sign is “Priority” and the other is… regular. I see a small line start to form on the regular side, so I walk over there and hop in behind a girl. Then, others start to line up for regular. Do they line up behind me? Nooooo no no no. Lines are not their specialty here. They literally started a new line behind the SAME GIRL bending a different way. Apparently I am invisible. I eventually had to put a no-nonsense look on my face and just cut back in. Stop laughing! I’m serious.
We started boarding, I got on the jet bridge annnnddd…. Stopped. I still don’t know why, but the movement from the jet bridge to plane just stopped. So. Popped a 3rd squat on the floor of the jet bridge for a solid 15-20 minutes.
Alright, you would think the drama of boarding a plane couldn’t be so detailed, and yet….
We get on the plane, and there is CHAOS. All over. It’s like everyone boarded from the wrong side (it was one of those planes that has stairs in the back too), and had to pass each other and was sitting down, standing up, talking loudly. What a cluster. There were 3 folks across the aisle from me- it went Italian… someone else… italian. And the two Italians were LOUDLY talking to each other OVER the person in the middle as he sat there quietly. I Stephanie Tanner’d them HARD in my head (“How rude!”).
We FINALLY take off about 2 hours late, maybe more, the plane ride is long and uncomfortable. I also think the pilot was tired or new because we had the most VIOLENT landing I have ever experienced. We walk into London Stansted airport (the cheap airlines fly into Stansted), walk about half a mile through the airport, and then I have to wait in another hour long line to get through customs.
London is an hour behind Milan time, so it was only about 1230am there, but I was EXHAUSTED. I used the time in line to chat with Matt and do research on how on earth I was going to get to my hostel this late at night. I found a bus that left from Stansted and stopped at the London Liverpool Street Station, which wasn’t TERRIBLY far from my hostel. The next one left at 1:35am. If I didn’t make that one, I think there was another but it didn’t leave for an hour or so after. I walk out of customs around 1:30am. I book a bus ticket on my phone while walking out towards the buses around 1:32am. I get to the line for the bus around 1:34:30am. I board at 1:35am. Made it.
I was one of the last folks on the bus, so the only empty seat that wasn’t next to someone else was at the verrrryyy back, right next to the bathroom. The bus bathroom. The door to said bathroom didn’t stay closed when not in use, either, so whenever the bus would brake or accelerate, the door would slam open or shut, wafting scents from inside directly into my nose holes. Let me tell you- not good. Noooottt gooooodd.
Despite the fact that it was past 2:30am my time and I was sitting on a bus smelling unpleasant things, I was in a very good mood. I was texting Kathleen and just giggling at the fact that I was in London. The fact that England is an English speaking country (go figure) may have played a small factor in my giddyness level, but it was mostly just the being in London thing.
I got off the bus and started navigating to my hostel- about a 20-25 minute walk across the London Bridge! At this point it was about 3:30am in my head, 2:30am London time, and the streets were still BRIMMING with drunk people. I don’t know what area I was walking through, but it felt like I was walking through a college campus bar scene. Generally speaking it was a hot mess haha. I truly started laughing and could not stop thinking, “Get your shit together, London!”
(drunks not pictured)
I am nearing the hostel when all of a sudden I hear a ….commotion ahead. I pause and see a bunch of people moving maybe 50 yards ahead. I see them run across the street. At this point I stop in my tracks to try and evaluate- “drunk people having fun or drunk people fighting?” It quickly became clear that it was the latter. There appeared to be two groups of guys, with one main guy as the target and girls chasing all of them yelling at them to stop. Then, it was like the scene in the first Jurassic Park when Dr. Alan Grant, Lex, and Timmy are all watching a herd of dinosaurs running and all of a sudden they make a 90 degree turn and start running directly towards them….. Yea. I back close to the wall of whatever shop I was in front of and stare wide-eyed as they all run past and the guy being chased then TAUNTS the guys chasing him. Bad move, dude, baaaddd move. The chasers obviously catch up, beat the CRAP out of him in the middle of the street, while the [assumed] girlfriend is yelling, “YOU ANIMALS!!!” It was like a car crash- I couldn’t stop watching. They had stopped traffic because this guy was laying in the fetal position in the middle of the street. I ended up grabbing a metaphorical seat in the peanut section with 4 other guys (completely sober) who had come out of another bar to watch the scene. I asked them if this was normal and they responded, “Ahh it’s just some mates fighting. No big deal.” Goodness gracious.
I finally get into my hostel, the St. Christopher’s Inn Village, about 3:15am London time. I check in and head to the dorm room I was staying in with 23 of my closest strangers. I try to quietly enter the room, and I’m starting to look for my J amongst all of the bunks when, “Beep beep beep!” I turn and look at the door, “WHY ARE YOU BEEPING???” I jiggle the handle a little bit and wait. “Beep beep beep!” Ah crap. So I just walk back out to the hallway and stare at the door. In my brain it is literally 4:30am. I do not have the mental capacity at that hour to troubleshoot a beeping door. Luckily two folks walk up that are also staying my room and open the door for me. Turns out the lock sensor is just a bit finicky so after you walk in and close the door you have to re-situate it to “zero.” They help me find my bed (of course the bunks are in stacks of THREE beds instead of two, and my bed is on the very top of a stack). I go to put my backpack in the little locker, and the (metal) door doesn’t stay open and smacks me in the head. After the longest travel adventure I’d had in a long, long time, I was able to get some sweet, sweet sleep in a hot and uncomfortable bed. Paradise.
Saturday morning, I still get myself up and out of bed by about 9am I think. I couldn’t find the outlet for my bed before falling asleep, so my phone was low on battery to start the day. Awesome. So I cleaned up a bit, grabbed my purse and external battery, and headed out. You would think after just 4.5 hours of sleep that I would be in a bad mood, but I seriously felt so refreshed being in a country where the primary language was my own. I hadn’t even realized how exhausted I was mentally from not being able to understand words being spoken around me.
Anyway, the plan was to head out to Hyde park and then work my way back through the day. I had bought tickets to see Hamlet that night at the Globe Theater (which was near ish to my hostel) so I figured that would work out perfectly. Somewhere in the process, though, I found out that
It was London Pride weekend
England was playing Sweden in the quarter-finals for the World Cup
These facts changed the whoooollleee weekend.
I headed towards THE TUBE and stopped in at a coffee shop on the way, Caffe Nero. I was so excited when a normal drip coffee was AN OPTION!! I grabbed a coffee and a pastry and kept on my way.
I stopped at the London Bridge stop and confidently headed down!
I was looking at a map to confirm how many “zones” I needed my ticket to access, when an incredibly nice gentleman working for at the station poked his head over at me to make sure I didn’t need any help. I explained what I was looking for, and he immediately explained where the zones ended and what I would need if I were just staying in the city limits. Amazing! Kindness and generosity just… popping out of nowhere. In English. I was in the BEST mood haha.
Then I got to the platform and see exactly why they called their metro the tube…
I think I got off at the Knightsbridge stop and started walking in the slightly wrong direction and passed by Harrod’s! Honestly, I had heard of Harrod’s before, but didn’t know that it was a department store haha. I wandered through some neighborhood streets and ended up in Hyde Park. I really just wanted to walk around a bit and enjoy the sunshine, so that is what I did. I was really excited, though, when I saw this guy in the lake!!
Matt and I had JUST seen an interview on CNN from our hotel in Baden-Baden (before I fell asleep haha) with the artist, Christo. He has done installations like this all over the world, but I didn’t know (or maybe didn’t remember) that there was one in London! So cool.
Unfortunately after that a good chunk of the park was closed off due to a music/summer festival that was going on, so I essentially just walked out. I walked by the Hyde Park Corner Underground Station and then through the Wellington Arch.
The Wellington Arch was built between 1826 and 1830 and was conceived as a memorial of England’s victories in the Napoleonic wars. A statue of the first Duke of Wellington was added in 1846 and was apparently the largest “equestrian figure” ever made. The whole arch was slightly relocated in 1883 (can you imagine picking up and moving an entire arch???), at which point the statue was left off. The current statue on top was placed on the arch in 1912.
I then walked down Constitution Hill through Green Park on my way to Buckingham Palace.
I emerge from the trees and see THOUSANDS of people in front of the palace in various locations. Goodness Gracious. I walk by, trying to find a small break in the crowds to snap a picture and maybe see why all these people were here. This couldn’t possibly be normal, right?? Then it hit me. I did a quick google search annd yep. Changing of the guards. I had JUST SO HAPPENED to show up in front of the Buckingham palace about 15 minutes before the whole gang arrived for the changing of the guard, pomp and circumstance and all. Frankly, I didn’t care too much to see it, but the “you don’t know when you’re going to be back in London” thought came across my mind… so I hung out :-)
When they were close to done, I headed down towards the Mall road and veered off into St. James Park in search of Pelicans! I of course then found a stand selling water and ice cream and desperately needed both ha.
I wandered through the park enjoying my ice cream (though it was definitely no gelato), but I think the pelicans were sleeping in the shade somewhere because I did not see any. I was planning to go into the Churchill War Rooms after that, but when I got there the line was incredibly long. I looked online for information about tickets and realized they were sold out. Oh well.
Cool building for the Institute of Mechanical Engineers.
I did a quick loop around Parliament Square Garden after that to see the Supreme Court building and of course, Westminster Abbey. Again, I didn’t have much interest in spending the time to go in, so I took my picture of the gorgeous building and kept going.
Parliament Square Garden is filled with 12 neat statues of significant figures in history. Eight are from British history, and the other 4 are Nelson Mandela, Mahatma Gandhi, Abraham Lincoln, and Jan Smuts (a prime minister of South Africa).
My favorite, though, was a statue of Millicent Fawcett, an advocate for women’s suffrage in the UK.
Also the Winston Churchill statue is pretty cool.
It then took me a minute to realize that Big Ben was right there because it is currently under construction/renovation and is almost COMPLETELY covered by scaffolding. It was really disappointing.
I started to cross the Westminster bridge to head towards the London Eye, but decided I wanted to turn back and head towards Soho for the Pride parade.
I started to get close and saw crowds and crowds of people. Flags. Capes. Arches. Glitter. Leis. What an amazing atmosphere. I just wandered kind of aimlessly through the crowds for awhile, and eventually ended up at Piccadilly Circus. I ended up watching the parade from here for a good hour or so. Dancing, cheering, getting glitter sprayed by some ridiculously hilarious men in spandex. My heart was so joyful.
It came to be about 3pm. With the soccer game at 4pm, I decided I wanted to head out and find a pub for lunch and a seat to camp out in before it started. Apparently I was already a couple hours late haha. Almost all of the pubs were already full!!
I happened upon Mr. Fogg’s Tavern which only had a few people in it. Done. Unfortunately, there were enough people in there to take up all of the tables, so I just posted up near the bar. I was intending to get some food but food never happened because it started to get crowded very quickly. I ended up kind of pinned against the bar, but this meant that the bartenders actually paid attention to when my drink was gone haha. I had 2 or 3 ciders in a pub full of English folks while watching England beat Sweden in the World Cup. So. Good.
Since I was pinned against the bar, I was KIND of in the way for other people to order drinks. At one point there was a girl behind me looking to get the attention of the bartender, and I felt bad for being in the way, so I offered to order for her haha. Now, she declined, but that is not the point of this detail in the story. I mention this, because this girl, I forget her name, was the one in a million type of person. I say this because after the 1 minute of chit chat that happens with pretty much anyone where she found out I was in London alone, she immediately said, “COME MEET MY FRIENDS!” And it wasn’t a vague offer of, “Well if you want to join me and my friends, we’re at a table over there” that I have gotten before. Because it takes a certain kind of humility and confidence to take someone up on that. The vague offers are more…. Courtesies. It’s like making the offer because you know you should. But this girl, actually turned me around and said, “Everybody! This is Leslie!!” Bless this girl.
So she introduces me to the group of girls she was with, half of which turns out she had actually met about half an hour prior.... In the pub ha. And THOSE girls… adopted me :-) Beth and Natalie were also the one in a million type of people, because when THEY found out I was in London alone they said, “Well you have to hang out with us and our friends then!” And when the game was over and they started to get ready to leave, “C’mon Leslie! You’re coming with us!”
I can’t even describe the feeling. Like. Part of my “expectations” that have led to disappointment on my journey over here was that I had this vision of meeting all of these Europeans that I would become best friends with and keep in touch with for the rest of my life. And if I ever wanted to come to Europe again, I would call them up and say things like, “Oh I have a friend who lives in Italy that we can stay with.” You know?? I mean, sujre, thinking about this logically, the odds of something like that happening is low. I know this. But that is still the vision I have had, and I have come NOWHERE NEAR making friends like that anywhere I have gone. Which is fine. Honestly, as you know from seeing all of my posts and pictures and experiences, I have had an AMAZING time here, but I still was looking just for that...that one nice person. And I found it in London. It’s like for 4 months I had sat the bench in gym class and was finally getting picked for a team.
Anyway.
The rest of the day was filled with meeting their 4 friends they went to Pride parade with, further drinking, McDonalds (yes… I said it… McDonalds.. Because the girls were obsessed with the “wrap of the day”... what??? Is that a thing????), dancing, a photo booth, more drinking, more dancing, sitting on the street and meeting a group of Irish people, more drinking, and ending at a bar literally called G-A-Y. I didn’t take too many pictures during all of this because I was just soaking in being run around the city with locals and feeling all of the love that comes with a Pride weekend in any city. It was incredible.
Natalie and I left the last bar around 1230 or so, and I NEEDED food before I passed out if I was going to survive Sunday at all, so she took me to a place to get fish and chips. I let her order for me, though, and what did we get? Two Chip Butty’s. And what is a Chip butty you ask?
Yep. A pile of fries in between two pieces of white bread…. With mayonnaise. What on earth England….
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chip_butty
I somehow made it back to my hostel via the tube, with my phone just about dead, and feeling just about dead myself. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep in my clothes and everything. Man oh man.
Oh, and I think this goes without saying that I did not make it to the play at the Globe haha.
Obviously I was feeling preeeetttyyy rough Sunday morning when I woke up. I unfortunately did not have the luxury of sleeping in or posting up on a couch all day to recover like I do at home. I had to check out of my hostel by 10am, which meant I needed to be generally clean, dressed, packed, and out by 10am. Ouch.
I somehow managed to get my butt out of bed around 9am and got cleaned up. May or may not have spent some facetime with the toilet. But I made it out in time. My plan, if I could make it, was to go walk the Tower Bridge then walk around the Tower of London castle. I stopped back at Caffe Nero for breakfast, but the only thing they had that sounded like I could keep it down was a premade meatball sub…. So that breakfast. A coffee and a meatball sub hahaha.
I sat and chugged water while very slowly eating my sandwich and trying to get excited about my day. Then… some of you may have seen on the internet that England brought back a song from the 90’s called “Football’s coming Home” as their… rally cheer let’s say. And it is 100% true. People all over the city allllll day Saturday had been singing it. I hadn’t ever heard it before, so I had no idea what was going on but I loved it. While sitting at Cafe Nero, wishing the world would stop being so loud, that song came on the radio. I could not help but smile.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJqimlFcJsM
Listen to it. It is awful and ridiculous but will forever hold a special place in my musical heart.
Continuing on. I got my legs moving again and slowly made my way over to the Tower Bridge. The idea of climbing up a bunch of stairs wasn’t at the top of my list. I was hungover. It was in the realm of 90 degrees out and humid. Bleh. But. I bought my ticket and walked up. It was actually pretty neat, though, getting to walk through the upper portion and learn more about how the bridge was built and how the drawbridge (or more technically, the bascule bridge) is powered etc.
After I came back down, I still felt like garbage, so I crossed the river and found a little cafe called Slug&Lettuce where I sat inside to grab lunch. Honestly, I wasn’t that hungry, but the air conditioning and sitting sounded like a wonderful thing.
I debated just sitting there all afternoon, but once again got myself up and moving and walked over the Tower of London. It is a castle built around 1066 and now a UNESCO World Heritage Site in the middle of London surrounded by these super modern buildings. Apparently Sir Walter Raleigh (the namesake of Raleigh, NC) was held prisoner here! Hahaha. It has a reputation for being a place where prisoners were tortured and killed, but really only 7 people were executed there prior to the World Wars.
I did not go see the Crown jewels, which are still currently stored here, because I just don’t care much about jewels, but the museum portions were neat!
Also got to see some of the guards up close. I pretty much apologized to the guy for taking a picture because I hate being THAT person, but… I’m in London.. How can I NOT be that person???
Totally worth it.
After that, I headed out, stopped for a milkshake, and walked back to the train station to catch a train to the airport!
Of course there was more drama at the airport
I needed to get my passport checked and my ticket “validated” and had to wait half an hour before the board told me where to do that
The machines in security were extra sensitive and the agents were making people take things like mascara out of their bags (for the men out there… that’s not normal) and half the bags were getting rejected
I had to wait over an hour to find out my gate so I sat in this huge crowded waiting area and talked to Matt
After getting to my gate, I was waiting in line to board and they last minute changed to another gate nearby. Only a few of us saw the change at first, so I was one of the first dozen people at the new gate, and we lined up where thhe ropes indicate to line up. The italians? Not so much. They made their own line and forged ahead while those of us following the rules sat like chopped liver.. Or something
Even after we boarded, we sat on the runway for over an hour before take off. At one point the pilot came on and said “it will be another 25 minutes or so” and the plane went into chaos. Everyone unbuckled and stood up and were opening overhead bins. Then when we started moving, they didn’t a heads up because… you know… people were still supposed to be seated and buckled… so people were falling over and had to rush to close the bins. My goodness.
Once again thought we were crashing when we landed in Milan
Customs in Milan was surprisingly fast
It was about 12:45am when we got out towards the public transportation area. I thought the buses were no longer running at that time and that my only option was a cab, so I hopped in one. As we pulled out, I’m pretty sure I saw one mre bus heading to Milano Centrale. Sigh. Ended up paying about 100 euros instead of 8. My life.
Regardless, I made it back to my apartment safely, my heart full of joy, and my post-vacation depression beat. What an incredible weekend.
Next up, Kathleen visits and we head to Cinque Terre Cinque Terre Cinque Terre!!
See you soon!!!