Sunday, October 16, 2016

That Time in London

A flight on September 29th, originally set to land in London UK on September 30th at 6:25am. It was a week and a half of beautiful ol' London with an old friend to show me the ropes. I flew back to Toronto on October 10th. My week and a half in London was very, very full. There was a lot of walking. There was a lot to see, and probably more that still needs to be seen. I'm told London is one of the oldest cities, a real first class city. One of the most notable in the world. London was not for me, but it was still beautiful and it was still an experience to be had. 

9.29.16. This isn't my worst flying experience, but it certainly isn't the best. Before I go to the airport, I already know that my flight is going to be delayed but I go early anyways. What was originally a 30-minute delay becomes a 3-hour delay. My seat mate is nice though. It's his first flight since he was a kid. It's my first flight in two years. He's moving to the UK to do his Master's. 


10.1.16. Some girls are chatting in the kitchen when I get back to the hostel and join them. A French girl tells us her story. She spent her entire life doing the respectable thing- she went to school, to university, studied to start a career as an auctioneer. She always thought of herself as a career lady. When she failed her test, it all came crashing down. Now she moves around a lot. She works as a waitress, moving from country to country, trying to find a place for herself. Trying to find some kind of happiness. When she feels that it's not her place, she moves on. She tells us it's never easy. That it's not in her nature to be spontaneous or embrace change like this, but she doesn't know what else to do. Another girl contributes to the conversation, tells us her father told her, "There is a magic and a clearness in loneliness. Enjoy it."



10.6.16. What is supposed to be an early night ended up being much later when I come back to the hostel, only to go out again with people from the hostel. On a rooftop looking out at the Shard, I listen to these 20-year old girls talk about how they are exploring the world. A 20-year old Merreck tells me she took a year off from university to travel Europe and then spend a month in Vietnam. She tells me about how she backpacked the summer before in Europe. I keep meeting people like Merreck, although she is among the youngest I have met on my trip. These are people set on seeing the world, set on a little bit of difference in their lives. I am both proud and envious of these people with so much energy and curiosity to embrace the world. 


10.8.16. We end up spending most of the day drinking and drunk. It is fun. The food is delicious. We see parts of the city alive that I haven't seen before. But the travelling is taking its toll on me. I know I'm ready to go home. I think what I learned on this trip is this: I like travelling. I like seeing the world, but at the same time, I need some sort of routine- no matter how small. I also need a feeling of connection, of home. It can be in other people, it can be in spontaneous moments, but it has to be there. London, although beautiful, did not offer any feeling of home or deep connection. 


My flight home goes smoothly. 

Nearly a week after I've been home, it is still difficult for me to decide how I feel about my trip, how I feel about London. I tell people that London is not my favourite city. Some people get this, some people don't. 

Jennifer tells me at the beginning of my trip that London is just another big city, and by the end of the trip I agree with her. London is old and beautiful, but it is also a city ruled by young people and tourists. Buildings are torn down, but the fronts remain. An illusion, a mirage of history. A beautiful mirage, but a mirage nonetheless. The culture of the city feels hard to appreciate when there is so much other stuff in the mix. 

My favourite parts of the trip are wandering the galleries and spending time with Jennifer in the quieter parts of town. I liked spending time in Jennifer's neighbourhood of Fulham and then Shoreditch on a quieter day. It is getting a little lost on the tube, and flirting with British boys at a bar in Shoreditch. It is the wonderful scenery on the way to the Barbican Conservatory. It is also all the wonderful food we had. It is getting lost with near strangers from the hostel. 

London isn't my city. If pressed, I probably wouldn't go back. I probably wouldn't have gone if it wasn't to visit Jennifer. London is wonderful though. I had fun. I had a nice trip. 7/10. 

Pictured above: Merreck, Henry, Jennifer and myself. 

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