Whirlwind London Visit

So far, so interesting… yes I planned my trip eight months ago, yes I considered every potential negative eventuation, and yes… no… things still went wrong and this time it wasn’t the universe or the weather, it was my very own oversight.

But lets begin closer to the beginning…

Flights are flights, and its rarely fun getting from your first A to your first B, so lets move on from there. Checking IN to B, was particularly UNFUN, in what I was soon to realise was a common issue for a cash-orientated traveller.

I am paid in cash in China, and between you and  me, its near on impossible to get RMB OUT of the country… even WesternUnion aren’t allowed to transfer yuan into an international bank account. So… my very kind mother allowed me to use her credit card to book my first accommodation in London, and I paid her back in cash when I popped back in August.

I arrived. I handed over my details, looking forward to a shower and a nanny nap after 30 hours of travelling.

“You will pay in cash?”

“No, its already paid for. I used my mothers card. It should be fine?”

After some back and forth the lady got the manager on the phone,

“I don’t understand what the problem is, it was booked over six months ago, the payment came out of my mothers card, if it were fraud you’d think she would have contacted you already?”

“This is not the process, we must follow the process”

“I can get her to email or message you now to say everything is ok. She’s paid here, I’ve paid her. I cant then pay you cash, then I’ve paid twice.”

“No, she must print out a different form, sign the form and then send the form back to us…”

“BUT SHE IS IN BUSSELTON AND IT’S THE WEEKEND!”

I handed the phone back to the receptionist while I spontaneously burst into floods of over tired tears.

I did end up paying in cash, arranged for a refund to my mothers credit card, but it wasn’t the start of this adventure I was hoping for.

The next three days saw me sweeping back to my old haunts. My first evening I met with a friend I’d not seen for nine years, it felt like not a day had passed between our parting. We drank near St Pauls where I used to work but unlike our old selves, were in our separate beds before 10pm!

The next day I walked an old and long walk. From Kensington Gardens I enjoyed the birds playing in the Oval Pond infront of the Palace, continued my wander through to Hyde Park, waving at Albert near his hall. Earphoneless and without sunglasses, I was immersed in the green and brown hues of this magical place. I breathed in and out and the corners of my mouth ached from smiling. My heart was entirely at peace.

I felt… I felt like I’d come home.

My iPhone died and so it was me and the free ‘London Map’, to get me from my accommodation to Covent Garden and finally to the theatre where I was due to see Aladdin at 2pm… And… I am SO proud to say that I DID IT!

Three hours of walking, I ran the gauntlet that is Oxford Street, snuck a quick peek at the Disney Shop and fortunately left purchaseless, manoeuvred my way down side streets to get away from the crowds, ACCIDENTALLY came upon the theatre showing Aladdin and finally arrived for a quick lunch at Covent Garden.

Then… stacked it.

So distracted by the reflection of sunlight on these sandstone buildings, the buzz and hubbub of happy people meandering through the markets, the clamour of buskers making ends meet with their performances… added to cobbled stoned streets… I fell head over feet. And not an elegant fall, a complete, THERRRUMMMPPPP that drew far more attention that any introverted individual would wish for.

My ankle, at a ninety degree angle, the strange heat that comes upon a knee immediately post graze, the ear buzzing of general embarrassment, followed by the perfectly proper English reaction of, “OOOOO! Are you ok! Can we help you!”, and my reaction, pretending I was not in rather a large amount of pain, sensing my ankle swelling more with every passing moment,

“no no!” I said, smiling up at my would-be saviours, “Oh, I’m all good. Just got distracted by all the beauty!”.

“Oh yes”, the agreed, sitting back down relieved to know I was ‘ok’, “It is that!” and we smiled, knowingly at one another.

I hauled myself up in the most proper way I could manage, slinging my big blue back pack back on my back, attempted to walk without the limp my ankle was begging for, and finally made my way to a restaurant across the way.

Sitting there, with the hubbub that is that place, with the warmth of it, the memories floating in and out of my consciousness… This place still brought me peace, was still my happy place, after all these years. More importantly…

I remembered where the public loos were! Funny the things your brain decides to file away! However, nine years ago – free… now, 50 pence! Inflation gone mad!

Shorty I was sat watching a live show of Aladdin in the West End, followed by a wander to South Bank. I stopped off at a pop up venue and chatted to a couple from Barcelona, before continuing along the Thames.

I bumped into a duo playing guitar and while appreciating their music, a homeless man came along and we had a nice long chat. He suggested seeing another busker, a woman along the way with an incredible voice.

The darkness came, the lights flickered on the river and I sat with my homeless friend and his compatriots listening to a woman belt out jazz tunes.

After a short sleep back at my hotel I was ready to take on the world again, this time to a location a little closer – Little Venice.

Again, using a paper map – yes, that strange enigma of a thing! – I made my way to

The sun was shining, people bicycling, strolling and running along the water way… while I sat with scrambled eggs, beans, bacon, toast and tea!

The sky reflected on the water, people paddling or riding down the river. Some had hired boats with wine and cheese included – I couldn’t but think of my Dad! – and as I wandered along the riverside I saw barges set up for long lunch and dinners, commuters sitting and sipping as the boat tapered its way down the moat.

But the time had come for an hour commute to see my friend again, only to be welcomed by a full home made English roast complete with Yorkshire Puddings which I’ve never really understood the purpose of.

And that was London.

As I trailed my travel bag behind me and headed to the tube I almost walked infront of a cab, I stopped dead, he stared me down with terrifying eyes, turning his wheel in my direction, still stood like a statue I watched… knowing my imminent demise –when his face turned into a larrikin laugh and I giggled and waved as he passed – THIS is England.

For me, it all smells like fairy floss and warm bread. The people are, oh… I don’t know… all the Bless Yous and the Excuse Me’s and the, ‘oh no… you go firsts’ – I want to cuddle everyone… which is not a thing I like to do with even people I know… but here, my heart simply expands.

And yes… I was very much worried about that! How-ever will I leave!