London

With Amy already in London at her cannabis conference, it was up to me to get Griffin and most of our stuff there from Rome. It’s only a two hour flight, but that still translates to eight hours, door to door. I would say that lugging our stuff a kilometer to the train station in Rome at a fast clip, when it was already probably 90° F, was the worst. But no, the airport in Rome was far more stressful! It was late June now, and there could no doubt that tourism had bounced back from COVID—the place was bursting at the seams. RyanAir’s meandering check-in line filled an entire corner of the airport. It took so long to get through it that we might have missed our flight, except that it ended up being delayed. Air travel is definitely the most taxing part of this trip, which is one of several reasons we’ve been trying to avoid it—but in this case, we couldn’t. Yet Griffin was a champ through all of it, even pulling his own roller bag most of the time. This kid is an amazing traveler!

After living there for five months in college, London is the only place in Europe in which I’m fairly comfortable. Though it’s a huge city, I know the layout, I know how to get around, and I sorta get the Brits. In fact, I wasn’t all that keen on going back this trip, and could easily have skipped it if we hadn’t been meeting Amy’s sister there. Been there, done that, and this sabbatical was supposed to be about exploring new places, not revisiting the old. Besides, last time I was here, it had been sorta…hard. (More on that below.)

But here we were. Getting a decent place to stay for a decent price in London at the height of summer is impossible, so we had to make do with one of the crappiest Airbnbs yet on this trip, a run-down apartment in a drab neighborhood that wasn’t close to anything. Meanwhile, all reports were that Britain was really struggling in the wake of Brexit, Prime Minister Boris Johnson was mired in scandal, and the mood was generally pretty sour. I didn’t have high expectations, but hey, we were only here for a week.

How wrong I was! Oh, London, glorious London! From the moment we stepped off the plane, she started to win me over. I suppose after all the heat, pollution, and dysfunction of Italy, it was inevitable. First, the weather in late June was exquisite—in the seventies, slightly cloudy, the air crystal clear from recent rain. Everything was so clean and actually…worked. Before we even left the airport, we found a compact but fully appointed grocery store (inside the airport—genius!) filled with lovely things like takeaway salads, fresh produce, hummus, and even vegan treats. And how novel that everything was in…English! Our cab driver was so incredibly nice, and his black cab was—wow, electric. Sparkling new glass skyscrapers that I had never seen before filled the skyline. The high streets were filled with wonderfully hip little cafes, bars, and shops. The parks were incredibly lush, green, and manicured. The whole place was a revelation. How had I not loved every minute I was here before?

Brexit or no, London didn’t seem to be slowing down for a minute. In fact, the mood was downright festive. Queen Elizabeth was marking her 70th year as monarch, and the city was madly in love with her. Photos of her (along with her famous corgis), Platinum Jubilee posters, and little British flags were everywhere, in shop windows, on buses, and strung across streets. Wimbledon was also in full swing, just a couple miles southwest of us, and we saw lots of celebrations of that too, even large screen TVs outdoors broadcasting the live matches. I’m sure the uncommonly lovely weather helped too. And because it was mid-summer and London is so far north, it never seemed to get dark—the sun was up from 4 in the morning until 10 at night. Everybody seemed to be outside enjoying it. Meanwhile, London is in the midst of a building boom, with whole neighborhoods being reinvented and cranes everywhere you look. Even the old shuttered Battersea Power Station, a hulking industrial eyesore with four huge smokestacks near us on the south shore of the Thames, had been cleverly transformed into slick new condominiums. It was all brilliant and amazing.

And I was no longer a broke college kid. I was an adult who could go to restaurants and shows and clubs if I wanted. Not that I love spending money, and I don’t have expensive taste. But the city was suddenly a cornucopia of enticing opportunities. As Samuel Johnson famously said way back in 1777, “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.” So much more true now!

We had just over a week here, including five nights by ourselves, when we mostly explored the city on foot and hit up many of the fabulous museums. On Sunday afternoon, Amy’s sister, Rachel, her husband Scott, and their kids Fiona and Simon, arrived. Griffin was so stoked to be reunited with two of his favorite playmates (and we were stoked to not have to keep him occupied all the time!). With them, we focused on some of the more iconic (or clichéd?) London experiences. We didn’t mean to pack a lot in, but somehow we did anyway. Here are the highlights:

Riding the London Underground, aka the Tube. Seriously, I think this might have been Griffin’s favorite activity in London, and he got pretty good at tapping my credit card at the turnstile and running through. Luckily for him, we had plenty of chances to ride it with how far outside the city center we were staying. Okay, so I kinda love the Tube as well…as evidenced by our stop at…

The London Transport Museum. On our first morning there, a Wednesday, Amy was still at her conference. So Griffin and I headed out to what I remembered as one of my favorite museums, which celebrates several centuries of transportation in the capital. The place is filled with old rail cars, buses, Tube carriages, and other vehicles, most of which you can climb on, and there’s even a recreation of an abandoned Tube tunnel, where Londoners took refuge from German bombers during WWII. For Tube geeks like me, the gift shop offers various items made with the distinctive upholstery patterns used on each line of the Tube. Seriously.

The Lion King musical. Afterward, we met up with Amy a block away at the gorgeous Lyceum Theatre for a matinee performance of The Lion King, now in its 23rd year there. You have to see a show while you’re in London, of course, but I just about fell over when I learned how much Amy had paid for it! Good thing she booked it and not me. But Griffin loved it. The audience was half kids, and the show definitely caters to younger viewers, while still having plenty of sly adult humor. I had wondered how an animated movie about animals set on the Africa savannah was going to translate to the stage. With a heck of a lot of creativity, it turns out. I loved the clever costumes and backdrops, especially the simulated wildebeest stampede…brilliant. Of course, the music, mostly borrowed from the film and performed live, was great. Many of the supporting actors were incredible; unfortunately, the leads who played Simba & Nala were far less captivating. But I was frustrated that the whole thing only really made sense if you were familiar with the film—it couldn’t really stand on its own. As such, it seemed like like the ultimate merchandising stunt to milk profits from a popular movie. Those guys at the Disney Corp know what they’re doing!

Covent Garden. Afterwards, and then a few days later with Amy’s sister, we wandered through the wonderful Covent Garden market next door and the neighborhood of the same name that was built around it. The lively market is housed in a wonderfully airy atrium built in 1830. This was once a fruit and vegetable market and wasn’t always considered the most reputable part of town, but it’s been cleaned up considerably since then. Nowadays, it’s considered the heart of London’s fashionable West End and its theater district, and the two-level market building is filled with adorable shops, upscale boutiques, a wonderful variety of restaurants and cafes, and plenty of talented street performers. Our favorite was a hilarious bearded opera singer who amused the crowd by messing with passersby; I especially loved when he stole the cell phone from a woman walking by and started singing to whomever was on the line. He got me as well, offering me an oversize comb as I walked past with Griffin!

Trafalgar Square. We finished off the evening by wandering down to London’s central and most majestic square, Trafalgar. Standing in this grand piazza, with streets radiating off in every direction, it’s hard not to love this city. Lord Admiral Nelson presides, perched up on his tall column in the center, surrounded by four massive lions and flanked by two large fountains. The National Gallery and the picturesque church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields loom over the north side, while the London Eye and the entrance arch to Buckingham Palace are clearly visible on the south side. Griffin played in the fountains and we took silly photos. Life is good! We came back a few days later with Rachel’s family.

Battersea Park. The next morning, a Thursday, Griffin and I let Amy sleep in while we wandered around our neighborhood in southwest London. There wasn’t much to do until we got to the Battersea Park (next door to the aforementioned power plant of the same name), a beautifully landscaped 200-acre riverside green space. We spent several hours there enjoying the beautiful weather, alongside scads of Londoners, renting a paddle boat to explore the lake, checking out some adorable ducklings, and enjoying a late breakfast at the lakeside café…interrupted by a very bold blue heron that tried to would have liked to have had it for himself!

The British Museum. Once she finally got up sometime around noon, Amy took Griffin off to the epic British Museum. With eight million works (many of them plundered from the far reaches of the British Empire), it’s truly one of the world’s greatest museums, and like most in London…it’s free! Griffin was already familiar with it from Night at the Museum 3. 😉 His favorite exhibit, also the focus of the movie, is the Egyptian section with all its mummies. Amy and Griffin were particularly fascinated by the naturally preserved body of the Gebelein Man, who still sports a tuft of colored hair. There is even a virtual autopsy table to explore the body. Alas, they only saw a fraction of the museum (which is really all anybody can ever do) as Griffin was keen to spend too much time in sprawling gift shop. I met them there as it was closing and we spent another hour wandering the top end of Covent Garden, particularly the “Seven Dials” area.

The Science Museum. London is of course chock-full of museums, and on Friday morning, the three of us hit up another great (and free) one, called simply The Science Museum (as if it was the only one!). Griffin and I took a simulated ride with The Red Arrows, the British Air Force’s version of the Blue Angels. Griffin and Amy explored the fantastic, interactive “Wonderlab“. I wandered the massive examples of early steam engines and the world’s greatest collection of old clocks. And Amy found the sobering exhibit on cancer research and breakthroughs really compelling. We all loved the “Information Age” exhibit with its old computers, rockets, satellites, and other awesome vintage tech, though we were pretty museumed-out by the time we got to that gallery!

The Natural History Museum. We came back on Saturday to do the adjacent natural history museum—which of course is one of the world’s best. The sprawling, stately building surrounded by gardens is almost worth the visit alone. But inside, Griffin loved the exhibits on various rocks and precious gems (an interest sparked by his friend and nanny Julie); the skeleton of the huge, beloved diplodocus “Dippy“; an entire floor devoted to volcanoes & earthquakes, including a shaking room that emulated a grocery store during a Japanese quake; and the recreated wax Neanderthals and other examples of human ancestors and cousins. Amy and Griffin even got lost and spent a frustrating hour trying to find their way out. Due to Brexit, London is currently short on a workforce and there were few museum curators to lead the way!

South Ken. Both of the aforementioned museums are in my old neighborhood of South Kensington, only a couple blocks from where I lived, studied and worked almost 23 years earlier, so we wandered over there after our museum visits. It was awfully strange to be back to my old street, Queen’s Gate Terrace, but it hadn’t changed a bit. With its rows of fancy white & pastel townhomes, this wide boulevard is about as quintessential a London street as can be imagined…and if there’s any doubt about how upscale it is, we found several embassies around the place and a Ferrari parked in front of my old building. Amazingly, we found that it’s still being used as student housing. I was tempted to go inside, but didn’t. Instead, we got lunch at the classic English pub at the end of the street, The Gloucester Arms, where I had hoisted a few pints years ago. The next day, I came back by myself, wandering past my old Tube stop, Gloucester Road, the building where we took our classes (also still being used as such), many of the places I had eaten and shopped, and the café where I had worked as a bartender. It’s changed names and owners a few times since then, but the layout inside is still the same, and I sat down at my old bar to get a drink. The bartender, a middle-aged woman, didn’t seem particularly interested to hear me reminiscing about being behind the bar myself a couple decades earlier. Oh well.

Hyde Park. A block or so away is London’s most famous and immaculately-kept leisure space, Hyde Park, where we headed next, strolling down the wide, shady pedestrian lanes on the west side of the park and hanging with the swans on the Round Pond. An exceedingly pleasant way to pass an hour or two! A few days later, we came back with Amy’s family, this time to the east end, where there are gorgeous flower beds, a wonderful playground, and the centerpiece Serpentine Lake. We also discovered a flock of wild parakeets that call the park home, which a local man seems to have adopted. He was feeding them and encouraging them to land on the arms of willing tourists like us. Apparently these noisy little buggers are as common here as pigeons (there’s thousands of them, though nobody knows how they got here!) and almost as aggressive as sea gulls—but far cuter. We spent an irrational amount of time feeding and fawning over them.

Princess Di Playground. The west end of Hyde Park is dominated by Kensington Palace, where Prince Charles and Princess Diana lived after their marriage. According to Wikipedia, “it remained the official residence of the Princess after their divorce until her death. Her sons, Princes William and Harry, were raised in Kensington Palace and went to local nursery and pre-preparatory schools in [nearby] Notting Hill.” Even though the beloved princess had died a couple years before I lived there in 1999, I remembered seeing extravagant bouquets of flowers left at the palace gate in her honor. Adjacent to the palace, there is now a fabulous, sprawling playground dedicated to the princess, dominated by a huge pirate ship play structure, and we spent well over an hour there with Griffin Friday evening. Afterward, we wandered the Notting Hill neighborhood next door, most famous for its starring role in the Julia Roberts & Hugh Grant film of the same name, and its Portobello Market, supposedly the world’s largest antiques market.

Harrods. On the south side of the park is Knightsbridge, home to quite possibly the world’s most legendary department store: Harrod’s. It’s truly an icon. (Though I’ve never been, I’m guessing the flagship Bloomindale’s in NYC might be the closest equivalent stateside.) Housed in a gorgeous, stately building that occupies an entire city block, there’s almost nothing you can’t buy here—provided you have deep pockets. Apparently, you were once able to even procure exotic animals like lions, elephants, and alligators from their pet department…seriously. We wandered from room to room, but Griffin and Amy’s favorite was of course the confectionery department, which would have made Willy Wonka green with envy. Perfectly coiffed and uniformed shop girls were handing out samples, and the walls were decorated with meticulously organized rainbows of pastel boxes sporting the gold Harrods logo, tied up in ribbons, and filled with every kind of sweet you can imagine. But like most people in the store, we were just gawking at it all. We tortured ourselves by visiting twice—once by ourselves, and then again a few days later with Rachel and her crew.

The posh neighborhoods. Arrayed around South Ken & Knightsbridge are the even-more-upscale neighborhoods of Chelsea, St. James, and Mayfair. I didn’t spend much time in any of them when I lived there (because, why would I?). Saturday morning, while Amy slept in again, Griffin and I headed over to Chelsea to see what it was all about. What a wonderful little spot! I loved the adorable pedestrianized Pavilion Street, where we got a late breakfast, and the nearby Duke of York Square, where a weekend market was in full swing in the park. It was a wonderful little scene, with everybody was out having brunch and enjoying the weather. (And if you can afford a £2 million flat in Chelsea, you too could enjoy this on a summer’s morning! Or just drop in like we did.) After Rachel & Co. arrived, we explored St. James and Mayfair, where the world’s fanciest tailors and haberdashers have been outfitting discerning gentlemen for centuries along gilded lanes such as Jermyn Street, Old Bond Street, and Savile Row, made famous most recently by the Kingsman: The Secret Service film & comic book series. St. James is also a hot spot for those old-school aristocratic gentlemen’s clubs. Mayfair is the ultimate shopping district—when money is no object, of course. Need some jewelry fit for royalty? Head to the gorgeous Victorian Burlington Arcade. Fancy an Aston Martin, Bugatti, or Lamborghini? Mayfair has you covered there too, particularly its Park Lane showrooms along Hyde Park. No coincidence that “Bond Street”, “Park Lane”, and “Mayfair” are the three most expensive squares in the game of Monopoly!

High Tea at the Chesterfield Mayfar. But the main reason we were in Mayfair was that it was tea time, and we were headed to the Chesterfield Hotel to enjoy it in high style…because we’re fancy like that. High tea actually has less to do with tea (though of course it’s served throughout) and more to do with nibbling on a never-ending supply of tiny sandwiches and fancy cakes for an inordinate amount of time while sitting around gossiping and looking splendid. (You know, sorta like our wedding.) There are more swanky settings than the Chesterfield for such affairs, but it was plenty swanky for us, and we appreciated that they cater to kids as well as vegetarian & vegan diets. Griffin is still talking about his UFO cake and smoking pink lemonade, chilled with dry ice. Just to make sure our glucose levels were at truly alarming levels, after the meal, they led us to a candy cart where the kids were allowed to fill a bag to bursting.

Changing of the Guard. I’m not sure if I suggested this one—if so, I regret it—but Rachel and her kids needed to do it. The Brits, of course, are big on pomp and circumstance, and there’s no better example than the lavish hour-plus ceremony each morning to relieve the guards in front of Buckingham Palace. For some reason, a marching band adorned in red tunics and black bearskin caps is required, which plays such traditional tunes such as the theme songs to Raiders of the Lost Ark and Dr. Who, Eleanor Rigby, and a mashup of hits from Michael Jackson…go figure. But this rather silly event is immensely popular with tourists like us, who turn up in droves, so trying to find a spot outside the gates (in the limited areas that the mounted Metropolitan Police will allow you to stand) where you can actually see anything is nearly impossible. Not that there’s anything to see except some guards and musicians standing in formation or striding stiffly across the yard from time to time. I’m pretty sure kids and adults alike were bored to tears, and we finally wandered off before it finished.

Leicester Square & the M&M Store. Only a couple blocks from both Trafalgar Square and Covent Garden, and nearly as popular, is Leicester Square. This shady plaza is home to the capital’s flagship cinemas, the “half-price” ticket booth where you can get last-minute tickets to all the West End shows, and lots of the sort of restaurants and shops that cater to tourists. Our destination was the M&M store, which claims to be the world’s largest candy store at 35,000 sq ft spread over four floors. It also claims to have the world’s biggest candy wall, which is a series of tall M&M dispensers, organized by color—who knew they made so many colors? Other attractions include life-size depictions of the M&Ms gang, a real Mini painted like the Union Jack, and a machine that will print your face on an M&M candy. The place is a retail masterwork. The kids were in heaven; I couldn’t wait to leave. Thank goodness the Lego Store across the street was closed for remodeling!

National Gallery. I was rather surprised when we decided to burn off all that sugar in…the National Gallery. This is basically the British equivalent of the Louvre, but much, much smaller. Predictably, the kids didn’t have much interest in 16th century Flemish masterpieces. I didn’t really either. But Amy loves still lifes…and it was free!

London Eye. After wandering through Trafalgar Square again, down Whitehall past all the stately British government buildings and the nondescript #10 Downing Street where the prime minister does his thing, snapping the requisite photos in front of Big Ben, and meandering over Westminster Bridge, it was finally time to hop on that new icon of the city, the slick oversized Ferris wheel on the bank of the Thames called the London Eye. Since we heard the lines could be insanely long, Amy had splurged on special skip-the-line tickets that would let us to board anytime. So we were a little mystified when we arrived to find no line whatsoever…because, it turns out, the thing closed in three minutes! Besides not having checked the hours, Amy had also not printed out the tickets, nor could she seem to find them on her phone. But with her usual charm and good luck—she does lead a charmed life!—and some help from the surprisingly eager staff, we managed to jump on the absolute last carriage of the day, which we got all to ourselves. Wow, what a incredible view we had from that floating glass bubble! The wheel doesn’t look that tall from the ground, but it was the tallest wheel in the world when it opened in 1999, and it’s head and shoulders above almost every building in central London, providing some spectacular vistas, especially over Big Ben and Westminster Palace across the river. I’m not sure it was worth what we paid for it, but it was fabulous nonetheless!

Cruising the River Thames. Did I suggest it was impossible to get a decent Airbnb in London? Somehow Rachel did it, snagging a gorgeous, modern condo in one of those new tall glass buildings…overlooking the Thames, no less! (She paid more than we did, but I’d still call it a bargain.) We met up with her there when she arrived Sunday, and though she had just endured a transatlantic red eye with two kids, we were surprised to find them rarin’ to go. So after a quick bite, we made our way down to the river in front of her building to catch the Uber Boat, a fast ferry sponsored by the rideshare company. The Thames is the reason the city exists, of course, but other than enjoying views of it, Londoners mostly seem to ignore it these days. For at least the past couple of centuries, people generally travel over it, not on it—though in many cases, it seems like it could be a faster way to get around! That certainly seemed to be so with the Uber Boat, which whisked us all the way from the west side of the city to the east in a matter of minutes, while providing a pretty great way to see some of it too.

Canary Wharf. We hopped off at a spot that, only a few decades ago, was considered one of the most blighted parts of the city—the docklands. This was once the busiest port in the world, but by 1980, the docks had closed, leaving a dead zone in the city known for its crime and poverty. (Remember the Pet Shop Boys’ song West End Girls? This was presumably where the “East end boys” came from.) But in a brilliant move, London transformed this area into an prestigious, master-planned residential and commercial district called Canary Wharf, which was still under construction when I last lived here. If you’re a fan of urban design or slick, modern cities, you’ll love Canary Wharf. Shiny office and condo towers now stud the area (including the third tallest building in the UK), big plazas are adorned with fountains and interesting public art, streamlined underground malls are topped with lovely parks, and there are even some clever playgrounds for the kids. The whole place feels shiny, new, and elegant. The river surrounds it all and provides a wonderful place to go for a jog or enjoy a cappuccino. Basically adjacent to the central business district of London, it’s now considered an extension of it, and “with the City of London, it constitutes one of the main financial centres in the United Kingdom and the world.” (Wikipedia) And for those who work in these smart office towers, why not live here too, especially since there are so many great restaurants and shops here, even entertainment? Need a place to berth your yacht? They have that too. We spent that first afternoon with Rachel here exploring, and I enjoyed it more than I expected. Though nothing like the rest of London and almost sterile by comparison, it has its charms, and provided a nice contrast to everything else we saw that week. London truly has it all!

Visiting Amy’s cousin in Bushey. On the other end of the spectrum…it just so happens that one of Amy’s Michigander cousins (whom she hadn’t seen in decades) lives outside London, and we had to drop in. Melanie insisted we stay the night, so we packed a few things and headed out on the Tube to the very end of the Jubilee line…which is way out there, so rural that I’m not sure it even qualifies as a suburb of London. Melanie relocated here years ago and married a quiet Irishman, and they now share a family compound with a couple of his brothers. They’re a handy and resourceful bunch of guys, all contractors by trade, and their houses, gardens, and everything else in between was built by them. She showed us around her generous veggie patch and dedicated potato plot, the purpose-built potato cave, and various other parts of the charming and quirky little complex, which felt almost like a small village. We particularly loved Melanie’s comfy, spacious home with its big stone fireplace, which looked very old but was apparently wasn’t. Everything was so quiet and neat and homey! Dinner was a lovely vegan casserole and…potatoes! It was a lovely place, and we could definitely see the appeal of living out there, especially when you could venture into London whenever you wanted for a dash of culture.

Eating vegan. Sticking to a vegan diet has been a struggle in most places we’ve been so far, and close readers will know that I’m not trying too hard. (I haven’t started eating meat, but I’ve enjoyed more than a few croissants!) But London might be the best city in the world to be vegan. After all, the term was coined in England in 1944, and the first Vegan Society convened in this great city that same year. Nowadays, there are tons of fab vegan joints, like the upscale Wulf & Lamb in Chelsea and the Leicester Square Honest Burger, which we ate at twice. Most other restaurants offer quality vegan options on the menu, even the traditional pubs. Favorite memory: walking into a Covent Garden shop that exclusively serves cookies stuffed with ice cream and asking if they had any vegan options, only to be told that the entire menu was secretly vegan. Hah!

Going to the grocery store. Yes, this made the list! I sort of dread this activity in most countries we visit, as it’s usually a struggle to find things Griffin and I will eat, translate labels in other languages, and figure out what some things even are. And good quality, fresh produce, especially greens, have been surprisingly hard to find in most places. (How spoiled us Californians are, and how I miss a good salad!) But one of the few good things about our neighborhood in London is the huge Sainsbury’s a few blocks away—my favorite grocery chain when I was last here. Heading there was the very first thing I did once we got settled, and what an absolute joy it was! Everything was in labelled in English! There were aisles of gorgeous produce, much of it organic! And an astounding array of vegan options, far more even than at home. Vegan sausage rolls and plant-based Cadbury milk chocolate? Yes, please! And strangely, everything seemed very cheap (surely the only thing in London that is). I bought like half the store and cheerfully made myself a lovely vegan Caesar salad that night.

Long story short: we enjoyed London immensely and can’t wait to come back again someday. But why, you ask, did I have such low expectations?

No doubt because my time here in college, while certainly exciting and formative, was also kinda…stressful. (You can skip this paragraph if you’ve heard this story.) I had gone as part of a London Study program, and the organizers had convinced us not to worry about money, that student loans would cover it if necessary. And that was sorta true. We had housing provided and got an unlimited tube pass that would take us anywhere. A whirlwind tour of the country was included at the start, as were occasional field trips to things like the restored Shakespeare Globe Theatre. But food and spending money? That was on us. And like most college students, I was broke, and my parents weren’t chipping in. (I did borrow money from my mom, but paid it back later.) Just as it is now, London was one of the most expensive cities in the world, and the British pound was exceedingly strong against the US dollar at the time, making everything particularly painful. Other students were running off to shows or doing weekend trips to Scotland and France. Not me. I didn’t even make it to the Ministry of Sound, the legendary London night club that I worshipped at the time. It’s exquisitely frustrating to be in such a marvelous place and not be able to afford almost any of it—like being in a pastry shop and not being able to sample anything. So, unlike any of the other students in the program, I got a job, as a bartender in a little bistro, working around my classes. I met lots of interesting people there and even started dating one of the waitresses, a lovely Welsh girl. But the money I earned barely covered food. After a few months, the novelty was wearing off and the weather was turning cold and grey. The study program ended and the other students went home. I changed my ticket and stayed on, moving into a flat in south London with one of the other bartenders, a Dane named Mikkel. My girlfriend invited me to spend Christmas with her family in Wales. A few days later, I rang in the Millennium in Trafalgar Square back in London. What a party! The new semester started at home, but here I was, playing hooky. It was all so wonderfully exciting. And yet…also depressing. I was cold, lonely, and broke. Londoners aren’t the most outwardly gregarious folks, and I hadn’t made any friends outside the bar. I spent a lot of my free time just wandering around the city by myself, on foot and on the tube. My credit cards were maxed. Sometime in February I think, feeling a bit defeated, I finally came home. That was my parting memory of London. I see now how much my experience colored my memories of the place, and how different a place can feel under other circumstances!

London is not perfect. Like I said, most things are still very expensive there (except, surprisingly, groceries). Cell service is also horrible, the worst we’ve experienced in all of Europe, which is apparently a known thing. And traffic…on our last day, we got stuck in such a maddening snarl on our way to the train station that, after sitting in the same spot for 10-15 minutes, we finally got out of our taxi and hauled our luggage to the nearest tube station, half a mile away. (We missed our train anyway.) But for only a week there, these things could be written off as mere annoyances, completely overbalanced by all the good stuff.

Our stay in London coincided with a couple of significant dates, including the 4th of July. While everybody at home was celebrating Independence Day, we were here celebrating the British. I had some trouble explaining to Griffin why there would be no fireworks here! The 4th is also my dad’s birthday, who died almost exactly a year earlier. British sports cars were both his career and his passion, and he and my stepmother actually raced MG roadsters on an amateur circuit for a while. So it was rather poignant when I discovered the flagship MG showroom in Mayfair on his birthday, where they had a chic MG TF roadster, the 1.5 millionth MG produced, painted gold in honor of the Queen’s Golden Jubilee a few years earlier. I’m sure my dad might have liked to have seen that.

Next stop: Bath, England!