Mind the Gap

Dear friends, with the whirlwind of meetings, mishaps and adventures, the previous week seems to have passed before the foamy head on a Guinness can properly settle. My musings on London carried on for a line or two longer than expected, so to spare your attention spans I will confine it to a single post. 

 My arrival and stay went off without a (large) hitch. I was picked up with a small group of fellow Americans by a grumpy driver who's nationality I could not place for his lack of speech. After a..er..bracing ride into the city and a rundown of meal times and check outs, we were dumped into a small square of eateries and convenience stores. Fighting jet lag, we stumbled into a generic restaurant, where I learned that servers who do not depend on your tips will not grovel and pamper, but rather leave questions unanswered and scoff bemusedly while you fumble with foreign currency. 

 I quickly learned two more things. The first was that most of those studying abroad are in their second or third year. Therefore, any hesitancy to present as stereotypically loud Americans fails to overcome their excitement to publicly drink for the first time. Secondly, I learned that I was confined to the company of such students until I reached Ireland. I quickly decided that my best course of action was to embrace the embarrassment.

So that night, after wandering around Bloomsbury (loudly of course) we came upon a quiet Italian diner where, much to the obvious irritation of the hostess, we pulled the patio tables together to seat eleven Americans who promptly ordered eight bottles of wine. 

Afterward, we crossed the street to a tame, traditional pub called The Crown where I wasn't the only one receiving an education. There among the mahogany stools and warm lantern light, an appalled young bartender learned what "wall twerking" is, and that it tends to elicit very enthusiastic (and loud) responses among American youth. Regardless, the atmosphere was delightful, I recommend any travelers drop in. 

The following day we were toted about the city in the quintessential double-decker bus while our necks cramped from all the left and right looking we were instructed to do. Some of the tour took place on foot for photo ops at Buckingham and Piccadilly and such, where the locals were entertained by Liam's presence. I am especially grateful to the doorman who, when asked to pose with the frog amicably scoffed "Oh not another one of these pictures," and grinned. 

At about noon we were released to explore on our own. I was excited to see the Tower and Westminster on such an optimal day for tourism. It was a bank holiday, during which the majority of Londoners cram into a few streets in Notting Hill for a rowdy annual festival, leaving the city fairly uncrowded. 

...naturally, the exploration group to which had I adhered myself immediately decided that this very festival was the best use of our time. So off we went through the tubes, ignoring every email from the American Embassy warning against large public events. Outnumbered and helpless to protest, I continued in the spirit of Carpe Diem I had set for myself the previous night. A famous annual cultural event must be worth my only day in London right? 
To describe said famous carnival in the greatest detail I can manage, it consisted of several booths selling over-priced jerk chicken, and droves of millennials partaking in alcohol and marijuana while walking in the same direction toward nothing in particular.

Three (loud) hours and several foot blisters later, Westminster Abbey was closed. I easily subdued my rising despair with plans for a solo visit later in the semester, and spent the remainder of my daylight hours trekking the city and navigating the tube system alone, an adventure I look forward to repeating. Liam and I visited the Sherlock Holmes museum on Baker Street, and found a peaceful bench in Ramset park on which to share a sandwich.

Later that evening, I rejoined the group for the necessary visit to Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross, and enjoyed some equally necessary fish n chips at The Euston Flyer.

In summation, there are some experiences best undertaken alone. Additionally, the UK has a high prevalence of smoked salmon sandwiches at a reasonable price, for which I am eternally grateful. 

To making it count, friends.