London Calling 🇬🇧 (and Dublin too 🇮🇪)

So, I’ve made a lot of fantastic friends from the London area on my Flash Pack tours but had heard far more about the city than I’d actually experienced. In fact, I’d only been to London two times in my life and for a grand total of a week. This was about to change! I flew in and out of London with the gang going to Finland so bookended the trip with some time in the city, staying with friends I’d met on Flash Pack tours. I first flew into Heathrow which I’d been warned was many things…. namely a total zoo, always a clusterf*ck, and sorted British words meaning similar things. I expected the worst. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when there was not only no line at customs but instead a row of available immigration officers waiting to welcome me to to their country with British pleasantries…or so I thought. [Travel tip: If looking to expedite the passport control process at Heathrow, when asked what you do for a living back home do NOT casually answer, “nothing.” Also, probably avoid jotting a fictional London address on the entry card (5 Piccadilly Square sounded about right). Lastly, when asked how you know your friend you’re staying with, perhaps provide a smidge more detail than I did. Just answering “Vietnam” seemed to only lead to more questions, as if I’d implied we’d been in the trenches together.] Once the suddenly very inquisitive officer clarified a few key pieces of information, including how much money I had saved in my bank account for my travels (I thought he was joking with this question. He was not.), I was on my merry way. Yeeesh! Yet, despite the hold-up, it took me less than 30 min from landing to get through customs and claim my luggage! Look at what a zoo it was:I then embarked on my maiden solo voyage using London’s public transport system. I’d also been forewarned that this was complex to navigate and that Londoners were mostly “heads down” and wouldn’t go out of their way to be helpful or friendly. But my London opposite-world experience continued. I actually felt like people were much more helpful than people would be on the DC Metro…strangers carried my suitcase up stairs for me! At one point I was waiting for an elevator (aka lift) in the station along with several other suitcase laden travelers and a women with a stroller. In the States I’m quite sure that those who had been there first would have gotten on and the others would have to wait. But here, stroller lady got priority without question and then stroller lady worked with the other riders to arrange a Tetris puzzle that would allow all of us and our bags to fit. Teamwork with a Capitol T!

The other thing I’d heard over and over again from my British travel-mates was that London is apparently sooooo huge, that you never ever in a million years run into people you know in the city. On one of my Flash Pack tours a few people in the group discovered they lived in the same London neighborhood, just a few blocks from each other, and this was treated as a humongous and unprecedented coincidence. When I suggested that maybe now that they know each other they would run into other all the time (as happens in Teha’s world in DC) the response was “um…unlikely…but perhaps…that could possibly happen….” which is British for “no chance.”

I was in London for a night before the Finland trip and stayed with wonderful Rachel who was my assigned roommate during my Flash Pack trip to Vietnam and Cambodia. We are now good friends, despite not having been battle buddies in ‘Nam after all. In the morning she escorted me to the bus, as the first step in my journey to the airport. I lugged my suitcase up the few steps and was proud of myself for having my London transport card relatively handy to scan. As I did, I heard my name and looked up to see my friend Isobel sitting in the very first seat on the bus! I know Isobel from my Chile tour group and she seemed way more surprised to see me than I was to see her. Her level of shock could only be matched by Rachel’s. These Londoners are sticking with their story that “these things just don’t happen” but I’m no longer buying it! I came back to London after Finland and stayed with the handsome and mostly funny Rob for a week, while spending my days playing tourist and catching up with pals I’d met at various points and in various places over the past six months. It’s hard to believe I didn’t know anyone in the city before then! I kicked off my visit in true tourist style with a free walking tour with my new favorite free walking tour company, Sandemens (I’d also used them in Prague). My second tour with them did not disappoint- the guide knew a lot about a lot and shared it with wry British humor that seemed perfect for the occasion. My favorite anecdote he shared was outside Buckingham Palace, where he relayed he story of Michael Fagan- this dude puts that lame White House fence jumper to shame. In the early 80’s this guy not only hopped the fence but due to a series of randomly well-timed circumstances, made it to the Queen’s bedroom and actually sat at her bedside sat chatting with her for about ten minutes (I guess the cat is out of the bag that Phillip and her weren’t exactly spooning…or even in the same bedroom). Fagan seemed a little confused about where he was and asked the Queen if she could call room service to order him some cigarettes. Her butler staff did think this request odd… and that maybe security should check things out. According to the guide the Queen said it was the only time in her life she’d been talked to like a “real human being” by someone who had no idea who she was and she allegedly invited him to her 90th birthday party (I guess he was busy that night). During the subsequent legal proceedings it was also discovered that Fagan had not actually broken any laws by entering the palace, so some loopholes were closed up after the incident. It was a blustery London day and the tour ended at a pub, where I sat and chatted with a new friend from the tour over fish and chips- she’s from Brazil and her name is Alathea. This confusing during introductions when she said “I’m Alathea” (pronounced Ala-Teha) and I replied “I’m Teha” and she said “No…I’m Alathea” to which I responded “and I’m just Teha.” Soon after we sorted this out, two gents timidly approached our table and asked for a favor…they work for a market research company and were testing a new hard cider. They had the nerve to ask if they could give us each a free pint of cider and ask us a few questions on camera. AND, as if this weren’t enough of an imposition, they also wanted to PAY us ten pounds for the huge inconvenience. Um…YES and YES! Alateha commented with glee that these things just don’t happen to her. I admitted that these things seem to happen to me all the time. Here we are with our paychecks: So, while planning my day that morning I’d checked out a last minute theater ticket app and entered a raffle for a first-row ticket to see Kinky Boots for 20 British pounds (which is equivalent to $28). I checked the app at the designated time and saw that I had not won the first row raffle (and I usually pride myself on my raffle-winning skills) but I was offered a 7th row seat for the same price. I guess that would have to do! My seat and the show did not disappoint- both were amazing! And apparently my row was celebrity-central that night. I was chatting with a group of six women in my row before the show and noticed the two ladies sitting next to me staring and whispering. They later told me they couldn’t believe I’d met the band “Girls Aloud,” which is apparently a British Spice Girls-esque band. The group had apparently broken up so it was BIG NEWS that they were together at the show. Oh the drama! One of my seat mates exclaimed, “I can’t believe there are celebrities sitting next to us! This NEVER happens to me!” I refrained from commenting this time.

I continued my London exploration for the rest of the week, checking out some sites on my own and was lucky to also have several friends excited to show me their city! On Friday I met up with Bhavika (aka B) who I’d met in July on the Flash Pack Vespa tour in Spain and she took me to the Tate modern as well as other assorted sites, before we met up with two other fabulous females from the same trip, Emily and Sacha. The four of us went to a super-cool bar that is World War II themed. It’s underground (and actually hidden with a secret entrance) and decorated as a bunker. You wear a bad-ass uniform jacket while decoding various clues, selecting a series of smells, colors and tastes, and radioing in the selections…which end up being the components of individualized hand-crafted cocktails. They claim to never make the same one twice but who knows. Mine was delicious so I do hope they make it again! The next day I was excited to FINALLY meet the infamous owners of my favorite tour company, Flash Pack. I’d been in much contact with Radha and Lee while planning my trips and liked them both a lot despite having never met them in-person. We enjoyed a delicious lunch at the Palomar and chatted for over four hours…and we could have kept going. We are definitely kindred spirits and meeting them re-validated my tour company choice…not as if I needed it. I then met Rob at his cricket club where there was a big rugby game on TV, but I forgot to watch the game as I was too busy chatting with people. The next morning Rob had a soccer (aka football) game that I went to watch. It’s with guys (aka mates) he went to high school with and they still play against other former high school rivals! I was immaturely entertained hearing grown men on the field (aka pitch) saying things like “lovely shot mate!” The “British language” really never ceases to entertain me!

We then tubed on over to Emily’s beautiful home in Notting Hill (yes, think the adorable neighborhood with the adorable Hugh Grant) for her “Secret Sunday Lunch Club” which is a regular business venture she operates. Essentially she cooks delicious food and people come to her house to enjoy it. The kicker is that often she doesn’t know any of the people (nor do they know each other) and most attendees are just individuals who want to enjoy a “proper Sunday lunch” and potentially make new friends. It’s a popular concept in London apparently and a “brilliant” idea. Emily is an out of this world chef and the consummate hostess, so it’s not at all surprising that her lunch club has been so successful! I saw Emily and B again a few days later for a delectable “afternoon tea” at none other than the infamous Harrods. I knew the Brits were known for “tea time” but didn’t realize it was a thing that many restaurants offer in the afternoons. A very cool experience with two very cool ladies. I checked out the London museum on my last day in the city and was horrified to learn more about all the city has been through over the years…fires, plagues, wars etc. Talk about a resilient city! I have to say that my time in the city made me leave wanting more, which is exactly how I like to leave a place. I especially need to see St. Paul’s cathedral next time, as Tom Cruise had it occupied this trip for filming Mission Impossible 12 (or whatever number we’re on now).

My next destination was Dublin, where I visited the lovely Louise…my roommate from the Flash Pack tour of India & Nepal (you may notice a theme with my Flash Pack roommates). The night I got there we stayed up until 2am catching up and poor Louise had to work the next day! Meanwhile I did the Dublin tourist thing and checked out the Dublin museum, the Dublin castle, and the spectacular St. Patrick’s cathedral. I think there was a bit of a mis-communication with my St. Patty’s cathedral tour guide, thou, who was French-speaking and kept apologizing for her English. I thought she had said I could come back to the cathedral at 5:30pm to see the children’s choir perform.This sounded cool so I cruised back over following a tour of the not-too-shabby Dublin castle. As I walked into the cathedral at 5:30 on-the-dot, the woman at the entrance stopped me. I explained “Oh, I’m just here for the concert” to which she replied “This is a religious service.” At that point my deeply seeded Catholic guilt came out (odd since I’m actually not Catholic) and I feared if I turned away at that point I’d be struck by lightening. So…I sat through an entire mass. There was actually a choir, but it consisted of middle aged to old men- definitely no children. Whoops! It’s such a beautiful place that I definitely did not feel bad for myself. The next day Louise and I got sucked into some Winter Olympics viewing in the morning. As explanation, I’m minorly obsessed with the BBC’s coverage of the games as it’s SO different from how the Games are covered in the U.S. First of all, there are NO commercials and they actually show LIVE coverage, that includes showing athletes who are NOT from Team USA. What a novel idea! I will say they definitely focus on events where Team GB has any shot in hell for a medal, but that’s only a few events anyways. I learned that Ireland only has five athletes at the Winter Games and has never won a medal. Louise read me a headline from a local publication, about an Irish skier’s “success” in their event the previous day. I assumed that meant they had made history and medaled! Um…not exactly. Success is apparently defined as (and I quote) “finishing the run with no major issues” and placing in 56th place! Once again…perspective gained.

We tore ourselves away from the Olympics coverage to travel to Glendalough, which is a beautiful spot in the Irish countryside about an hour outside of Dublin, where we hiked up to a spectacular look-out. It was stunning and made me want to see more of the country!That night we went “out on the town” with Louisa’s fabulous friend, Fiona, and ended up at an authentic and infamous pub called O’Donahues, where we saw a “proper session” of folks jamming Irish music with an array of impressive instruments. It was pretty phenomenal and also cool to see the photos on the walls of the dozens of celebs worldwide who have been there to enjoy the music.

The next morning I promised Louise I’d be back soon (I hope she meant it when she said that was okay) and headed off to the airport. Next up…Myanmar! P.S. If you haven’t heard of Myanmar you aren’t the only one…think Burma