Fair London Town

I find it odd to express so much love for a city, but London was spectacular. The intermingling of beautifully maintained parks with museums, monuments and statuary, a total lack of "city smell" and the absent pervasive horror of New York City-style body odor and bitterness towards humankind...all contributed to a really incredible 36 hour, heavily compressed trip. My best friend since the age of 6 was there through a different study abroad program and she served as a good tour guide.

I took the bus on Friday from Cheltenham Spa, and spent a nice, uncomplicated 2 1/2 hour journey there, although I was starting to get the horrible throat tickle and wheezing associated with the first cold of the school year, and I was dreading the virus's implications for my trip (and incidentally, the corridors of the flat were littered with tissues instead of beer bottles, which proves that this is a communal plague). Fortunately, the cold only proved to be an annoyance which contributed to an overall physical state of tottering whinyness, which I am starting to think is my normal traveling attitude. I feel bad for anyone who travels with me and apologize. Despite a month spent here walking and several changes of shoes, I still have large blisters on my feet which can't be healed.

My first impression of London was stunning. From departure near Hyde Park, there was already beautiful scenery to take in. Sarah greeted me at the bus station and we walked around Hyde Park for a while. Friday night was like old times spent with my best friend, but in a different location. We rode the tube and explored a very strange, enormous mall before I went back to my hostel to sleep. The hostel was built in a large Edwardian era townhouse. It was an 18-35 youth hostel, which meant that there was a loud noise level, but it wasn't as oppressive as the noise here on a regular basis. The rooms were spacious, clean, and comfortable--even with 5 strangers sleeping in close vicinity. I fell asleep listening to people softly speaking German, and though I wrestled with cold symptoms which kept me awake most of the night, I awoke feeling good on Saturday.

The sun shone over the city of London on Saturday, and we embarked for our enormous museum tour. We went to the Tate first, and saw a few neat paintings. Unfortunately, the exhibit I wanted to see was closed recently. I did see some memorable paintings that I have loved such as: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fairy_Feller%27s_Master-Stroke We ate lunch there and then went on to Westminster to see the Victoria and Albert: Art and Love exhibit http://www.royalcollection.org.uk/microsites/vanda/MicroSectionList.asp?exid=224
that I booked tickets for at least 3 months ago, at Buckingham Palace, Queen's Gallery. When we arrived at Buckingham Palace, we were fortunate enough to see the changing of the guard immediately upon exiting the cab! It was overrated, but fun nonetheless!

The Victoria and Albert exhibit left me breathless and on the verge of tears at seeing all of the relics of their lives that I have studied in books and looked at online for years. The culmination of the rooms was their experience in Scotland, and it made me so joyous to see and realize that I will be able to go there soon, too. I just told my mother over Skype that "history quiets my soul." Being in London on a shining day, amidst monuments, portraits, royal relics and ancient Egyptian cat mummies at the British Museum made me happier than anything else I have experienced on this trip. It's obvious to me now that history is not attached to a specific place, but to time and to people who respect it.

After a tiring day of museums, Sarah and I found ourselves back at the Albert Memorial in Kensington. We had hilarious fun taking pictures of this giant, nearly religious monument to one person's love for another (or her insanity, either way) and running around in the dusk, while kids played soccer nearby. I will remember the particular weather of this day for a long time. The air was cold and crisp, creating dragon clouds from our breath, and the sun was brilliant all day. I was conscious at this time that 3,000 miles away, Dillsburg Farmers Fair was going on in my hometown. I missed it, despite the beauty of my surroundings.

I came home this morning, but before I checked out of the hostel I had one of those weirdly memorable trip experiences. Last night, everyone checked into the hostel room very late at night. I went to bed at 10 because I needed to catch an 8am bus, and I was awoken at 2 by people who were just getting to bed. When I gathered my things to leave this morning at 6:45, I found that the door was jammed because a 6-foot tall guy was sleeping in the hotel corridor. He was wrapped in his sheets entirely, like a burrito, and I couldn't tell if he was breathing (but hoped for the best since his feet were still pink). I didn't want to wake the poor guy up, because he had to be pretty drunk/tired to get into that situation, and most people in the hostel didn't speak a lot of English, besides. I made the moral decision to leap over him. Luckily, I hopped correctly and was able, after two tries, to quietly make it to the door and down the stairs.

I will remember this trip for a very long time. It was both wonderful and bittersweet. I am looking forward to my next adventure...but first, many essays are due. One dragon must be slain at a time, I guess.