Alright, I just have to say, I absolutely fell in love with London - with its architecture, its history, its modernity, its people; with the way it looks, smells, and tastes. We got into the city after 10pm on Thursday night, and I was telling myself that I absolutely loved it before 10am the next morning. London was always one of those places that I sort of abstractly wanted to see, but I was never really consumed by any burning, passionate desire to go. I mean, I just always figured that one day I'd end up there and that it'd be pretty cool. I am so glad that I did decide to go, because it totally surpassed any expectations I had.
Before I can get to the site-seeing and everything though, I want to blather a little bit about what it was like getting to and around London with my friends. I feel like the background bits are important for establishing the general mood and feel of the whole trip, which was, by the way, the first trip to a new place I've ever planned by myself (as in, my parents/teachers/study abroad program didn't pick the dates or find the plane tickets and the hotel room, and I wasn't going to a new city meet a friend or family member who could show me around). Everything turned out well, but we certainly had our pitfalls and bumpy moments.
Toward the beginning of the semester, Jessie, Alissa, Katie, and I sat down with a list of places we wanted to visit and then we went through a calendar to block out possible dates when we could all go together. We all decided on London for our first free weekend, and then it sort of fell to Katie and me to do all of the planning. Katie and I are both very plan-oriented types, whereas Jessie and Alissa fall more into the camp of "Plan? Who needs a plan?" people. We spent hours and hours arranging the traveling, finding the plane tickets and the bus tickets to go to and from the airports. And oh man, was it a mess.
Dad, if you're reading this, brace yourself - you probably would've had a heart attack if you'd been with us. We wound up cutting it really close. We had a 6:10 pm flight, which meant boarding at 5:40. We got bus tickets for 3:05 to get us to Shannon Airport by 4:30 - we couldn't leave earlier because Alissa was supposed to have a class that she didn't want to miss (but it wound up being cancelled anyway). We left the apartment at 2:30 because it's a half hour walk to the bus station. Unfortunately, we walked to the wrong bus station. Oops. We got inside at like 2:57. Katie and I just looked at each other when we didn't see BusEireann listed on the departures. We asked someone and were given directions to the correct place, but of course Jessie had decided to take a bathroom break right then. Katie frantically suggested that we two run ahead to hold the bus, and run we did. Around the corner, up a hill, and across the street, all the while with our backpacks flopping up and down and me trying to suppress my inner monologue of aaaah we won't make it the next bus is an hour from now we'll miss the bus and then we'll miss our flight and then we won't be in London in time to check in and we'll just have to go back to the flat and tell everyone that we couldn't get it together... but then we made it, saw the bus was still there, and Jessie and Alissa caught up with us in time. Whew. All those years of making fun of Dad for making us leave three hours early for everything... now it makes me sick to my stomach to not leave all that extra time when I'm going someplace. What an unsettling way to start the trip.
The rest of the ride to London was wonderfully uneventful, although we had a hell of a time figuring out the most cost-effective way to get from the London-Stanstead Airport to our hostel. After landing, we took another hour-long bus ride to a station in the center of town and then a 15-20 minute ride on the Tube and then another 15 minutes walking around trying to find the right street. We were exhausted, but totally giddy in our exhaustion. At alternating 5-minute intervals we had Alissa screaming "London Baby!!" (from Friends), Jessie crying out "Yeah, baby, yeah!!" (from Austin Powers), and Katie and me breaking into short bouts of excited laughter. Hooray for tourists.
Eight hours of traveling later, we finally made it to the hostel - which I guess means that now it's Mom's turn, if she's reading this, to brace herself. Alissa had firmly told us early on in the trip-arranging that she just doesn't do planning, but Jessie had said that she'd get on booking the hostel. Well, she didn't... so only two weeks before our flight out, Katie and I had to spend another few hours trying to find a place for us to stay. She and I were apprehensive about staying in a hostel (and I'm pretty sure both of our mothers feel strongly against the idea, too), but Jessie said that she so much prefers the experience of staying in a hostel and getting to mingle with strangers. We wound up having to compromise because we couldn't get a room in the same place for all 3 nights, so we booked Thursday night in a hostel and then Friday and Saturday in a hotel on the other side of town.
The first night, they had us split up into 3 separate rooms, each with 4 sets of bunk beds filled with strangers. It was honestly pretty uneventful and we all came out okay, but even though nothing terrible happened I was so uncomfortable. . I had to try to explain to Jessie the next day why I said I didn't want to try doing that again for our upcoming trips: it just added so many extra and unnecessary sources of stress and worry. They were out of locks for their lockers, so I couldn't leave my backpack in the room without worrying that someone would trifle with it. I actually hid my water bottle for fear someone might slip something in it, and I slept with my purse and coat bundled underneath the pillow. I wouldn't try using their showers because people are dirty and who knows what fungi linger in the puddles. And worst of all, I couldn't help but thinking about the possibility of bed bugs! (My mom has successfully ingrained in me a deep-rooted paranoia of bed bugs). Call me obsessive or ridiculous or what have you, but what can I say, I was raised this way. I like the luxury of having a little privacy and security when I travel. I like having my own hotel room with a lock and key. It's totally worth a few extra bucks to me.
The hotel was a much more comfortable set-up (or at least Katie and I thought - Jessie informed us that she much preferred the hostel), although it was a little out of the way. It was about a 10 minute walk to the closest Tube station, and we had to transfer lines to get into the center of town. It wasn't that inconvenient though, so I didn't mind - I actually wound up really liking the Tube. I'm a self-proclaimed directionally challenged individual, and I normally have a terrible time navigating cities. I can't even list the number of times I got on a bus in the Twin Cities going in the complete opposite direction of where I wanted to go. But despite that - I was actually able to figure out the subway and how to get anywhere in London. It was definitely a highlight of the trip for me - I felt extraordinarily competent (for a change).
Alright, the other installments to my London blogging will be up soon, and they'll have photos and details about what we actually did and saw while we were there.
Slán go fóill.
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