The first round of exams are over. Only one more to go before I get to thesis full time. That's going to be... fun? Traumatizing? Super stressful? Something. It'll be something.
Anyway, during the study week before exams I had what was probably a long overdue existential crisis and urgent need to get away. Far, far away. Right. Freaking. Now. So I impulse bought a ticket to the cheapest destination I could find for the post-exam weekend. This just so happened to mean I was going to London. I then proceeded to find a random, super cheap place to stay (aka an air mattress on the floor of some random university student's dorm room), and, after telling my mom about my impulse trip, a ticket to The Book of Mormon. This all, basically, amounted to a solo romantic weekend in London.
And I finally got to leave the Netherlands.
So after one serious ass-kicking and one lovely 'well that went well,' I hopped on a plane and went to London.
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It's been a few years since I've travelled solo - last time was spring break 2010(?) when I went to Mexico on impulse because it was cold and I wanted a change of scenery. It's a totally different mode of travel. On the one hand, I am more aware of everything around me and the vibe I'm giving off. Part of me is alert and keeping an eye out for potential situations that might make for not a good time (yes, that grammar is atrocious. I'm rolling with it), and I'm more attuned to my body (aka diabetes, level of intoxication, whatever) because I have to be able to get myself out of any situation I get myself in to. On the other hand, I can do whatever I want and meet random people. A single girl is more approachable (if you don't have your 'piss off' face on), so you can make a new friend pretty fast if you go into a pub, get a beer, and stand by yourself. It took under two minutes for me to make a pub friend in London. Good times.
Anyways, I ran away to London for an adventure. My stated objectives were simple: have a wander, see a show, and make a pub friend. And there was success on all fronts.
On another note, you know how I pretty much dislike cities? I actually liked London. A lot. This surprised me, but that's ok. It was a good surprise.
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I flew into London Luton, one of the random airports around London, and took a train to Kings Cross. There is a short bus ride between the airport and the train station, and I must look like I know where I'm going/what I'm doing these days, since a guy immediately asked me if I did this trip into London a lot. I laughed, went 'dude, I have no idea what I'm doing,' and we struck up a conversation that lasted until we arrived in London. Turns out he lives in Edinburgh but is originally from South Africa, and works as an internist. We chatted a bit about how transferring the medical license works, since I was curious. Roy is also a climber, so we talked about the places we've climbed (Ev and I have climbed more places in Europe than Roy has, which amused me) and grand plans for future adventures. I think I may have convinced him to come to Alaska. Eventually, we exchanged WhatsApp information and I now have an offer for a spare bedroom if we're ever in Edinburgh. Dunno if I'll take him up on it, but it's really cool having contacts all over the continent.
I stayed on an air mattress in a university student's dorm room for very, very cheap and was a 20 minute walk from all the super-tourist sites. So in the morning I went for a wander to the Thames to see the sights.
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| London gets mad props for having green space. |
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| The phone booths! They're a thing! Although I do feel like the UK is intentionally messing with Doctor Who fans. I couldn't stop looking for a blue police box... |
Who can go to London and NOT see the Eye (see what I did there? I'm so clever)?
After a long meander down the Thames, I picked up my ticket to The Book of Mormon and continued to explore. I found my way to Big Ben and the Parliament building, wandered to Buckingham Palace (which had an insane number of tourists, so I didn't stay long), then worked my way towards Downey Street and Whitehall. Of course, it was raining, so there are no pictures of these magical sights.
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When I booked my trip I didn't realize it was Remembrance Day weekend. While the actual holiday is on 11 November, it's observed over the weekend and is a really big deal. As I explored, I was struck by the memorials, monuments, and plaques commemorating the different branches and conflicts all over the city. And each was covered with notes and letters remembering the servicemen, both current and past, and their sacrifice.
Outside the Ministry of Defense Building along the Thames there is a row of memorials to different branches of the armed service during different conflicts. Each statue was engraved, some telling the story of the unit it honors, or the conflict, or listing the names of those who served in the engagement.
The Fleet Air Arm Memorial and The Women of WWII Memorial
When I went to Westminster Abby, the courtyard was full of tiny crosses, organized by service branch, armed and unarmed, each with a name. A group of veterans and servicemen were moving from section to section, a chaplain saying a few words at each and a small contingent of bagpipes playing in between.
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| those aren't leaves. Those are crosses. And this picture doesn't do justice to the number of people working their way around the courtyard. |
After the service(s), they relocated to a pub across the street and proceeded to have a rousing good time. Yes, it was around 10am. When I passed by again a couple hours later, they were still there.
Later in the day when I wandered down Whitehall, there was a large memorial service taking place in front of the Cenotaph, complete with an army band and bagpipes. That night, there was a huge fireworks display, which, of course I totally missed. Sunday there was a massive parade, attended by the Queen. Unfortunately, I had to go back to the Netherlands and was on a train when it took place.
I have to say, the level of respect and honor paid to the veterans and military by England was incredible. I've never seen anything like it, and it was humbling to see a small part of it. So kudos to you, London.
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So after collecting my ticket, I wandered around West End, through China Town, and, somehow, what I can only assume was the gay district (which was really awesome), where I found this and just had to take a picture of it.
Eventually, I decided I was ready for some companionship, so I stepped into a pub for a beer, found an open spot to stand and put on my best 'I'm approachable' face. To my mild surprise, it totally worked and within a few minutes I made a pub friend.
Pub friends are awesome. It's always fun to meet new people, and I was way too excited when, over the course of a couple hours, I was privy to (what to me seems silly) British slang in normal conversation. Bloody (actually, this has worked its way into my vocabulary. It's an awesome word), blimey, arse, bugger, mate, prat, and pet all made an appearance (as well as a couple others, but I'm pretty sure I'll offend my grandparents if I put them here...). I'm generally very adverse to pet names, and had to remind myself that 'pet' is a term of endearment and devoid of sexual connotation (although to be fair, if an American guy called me pet I'd probably get a bit pissy).
Eventually I met up with a colleague from Delft now working in London and grabbed some dinner before the show.
Remember how I said how cool it is having people all over the place? I didn't even realize Francesc was living in London until the day before I arrived. So we had a beer, caught up, and made plans to meet for breakfast the next day.
Then I went to The Book of Mormon. Which was freaking awesome.
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The next morning I was introduced to British breakfast. It was not appealing.
And then I went to the British Museum.
I arrived right around the time they opened, so I was able to wander through the museum before it got super crowded. Part of that was probably that I like go through random exhibits that probably aren't that popular, but hey, no people. I even got to see Cleopatra (aka my first mummy!)
My favorite thing of the day was this sculpture called 'the last woman standing.' The sign reads:
'King Ashur-bel-kala sent versions of this unflattering statue all around his kingdom. This is the only known example to have survived and is remarkable for the total nudity it displays including public hair. The king says in the inscription on her lower back that he did this to provoke a reaction. The text does not fully explain what his motive was but presumably everybody who saw one understood. A humorous curse threatens anyone who tampers with the inscription with a snake bite.'
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And then I had to head to the airport to return to my real life.
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And that covers my only grand adventure thus far of grad school year 2. Well, that's not entirely true... Adam showed up this week and we had a short jaunt to Hamburg, but this post is massive and so that's a topic for another day.
