London Town

I awoke early in the morning on the bus, slightly confused as to my exact location winding through London's suburbs until we rounded a corner and crossed the Thames just west of Big Ben. I was still a bit confused despite recognizing the iconic London landmark because it was sunny... in London! Reality didn't strike until we landed at Victoria Station some minutes later and departed the bus, stepping onto British soil for the first time in years. As I made my way to the unopened Tube station, where I was to head out for my hostel, I was increasingly excited to be back in this magnificent town again, and for the adventures still to come. I loitered, along with the other bus and train passengers, waiting for the Tube to open, and then made my way on the Victoria line to Brixton, in south London. Strolling along the quiet early morning streets and through the still-recovering public square of Brixton listening to a local trying to sell some Australian hippies cocaine made me quite excited to get my London adventure underway. That excitement, however, would have to wait. I arrived at my hostel a short time later, named Hootenanny after the bar it was situated atop, only to find it closed with no signs of life in the immediate vicinity. So, I loitered some more, back to watch the sleepy Londoners arise and fill the streets and the public workers reinvigorate the square that looked to have taken a beating the night before from the local youths of Brixton. Finally, after enjoying the rising sun and the awakening of sleepy south London, I headed back and checked into my hostel minutes after reception opened.

After getting settled, I decided to use my newly minted Oyster Card and take the Underground back into London for some exploring. On this fine Sunday morning, I headed straight for the Camden market in north London and found my way around the various stalls selling tons of vintage goods; from clothing to furniture and everything in between. But, the best part--aside from people watching--was enjoying a fantastic Greek gyro sitting in the sunshine at a nearby park. Then, off I went to explore the city. Due to construction, the closest Underground station was closed, so I headed off on foot to check out some of the recommendations from the various Londoners I met along my travels. First stop, after passing St. Pancras was to Shoreditch and the East end. Off I walked, enjoying the sight of Londoners roaming the streets on this fine Sunday; running errands and enjoying tea with their closest friends. In Shoreditch, one of London's up-and-coming neighborhoods, I strolled past the old industrial buildings in the midst of renovation and readying for hip new occupants and this reminded me of the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle, but much larger. There were interesting people eating at the hipster restaurants where they were cooking innovative food and I could tell this neighborhood was helping redefine the artistic, and culinary, scenes of London. Somehow I ended up in the ghost town that is the Financial District on a Sunday, coming face to face with the Gherkin, the well, gherkin shaped building in the heart of London and I took a moment to wonder at its odd, and hardly economical shape before moving. After stumbling onto a closed restaurant dedicated to the art of mashed potatoes, I decided to head back to the hostel for some rest. After a bit of rest in the room, where I met a Washington DC-based actuary-slash-DJ, we headed down to the bar to watch the final of the Confederation's Cup as Brazil beat reigning world champions Spain in a 3-0 rout. What a fantastic game and precursor to next year's World Cup! That was enough for me though, and I headed off to bed.

Monday I was greeted with the news that a friend from Brighton named Luke who I had met in Hanoi would be in London for the day. So, I messaged him and he agreed to meet up. I headed up to Victoria Station late in the morning and met the lad just beside the platforms. As it was nearing lunch, we decided a traditional English cider and some catch-up was due, and so we headed to the nearest pub for a pint. After some chatting, we decided to take a walk through Picadilly and Trafalgar Square. On the way past Buckingham Palace and through Hyde Park, we agreed that something touristy was in order, and I had heard rave reviews of the Hard Rock Cafe's exhibit of Rock'n'Roll history, so we went to take the tour. And what a fabulous tour! Everything from Hendrix's guitar to Keith Moon's shirt and Kurt Kobain's sunglasses to Freddy Mercury's third century Chinese throne were in the small room known as the Vault. What a thrill, and we left quite satisfied having been in the presence of history. By this time hunger had crept in and we ended up at a pub just a few blocks from Trafalgar Square for some Bangers and Mash and a pint of ale, both of which were quite satisfactory. After the filling meal, we headed out yet again, this time to Soho where we browsed the record shops as my friend, a DJ, was always on the scout for new material. Nothing sparked his fancy, so we continued our wander, landing at yet another pub for a last pint before he had to catch the train home. I headed back to the hostel and ended the fantastic day early.

I awoke early the next morning bound for the historic college town of Oxford and their renowned university. I walked through the town on a fabulously English overcast day, heading up the church's tower for a 360 degree view of the town in the mist before walking past a few of the oldest colleges including Merton and Christchurch. Then, however, the rain started to pick up. I took my leave and headed for the town of Henley-on-Thames, home of the historic Regatta crew races, and also the workplace of another traveling friend, Andrew, who I met in Montenegro. After getting stranded for an hour in the quaint picturesque English village of Wallingford, I finally hopped the local bus onward to Henley and met up with Andrew. We walked along the river checking out the preparations for the next day's events, where I saw a few superhuman sized members of the Polish national crew team and some (slightly) more reasonable sized Cal-Berkley and Harvard rowers meandering through town. After checking out the town, we got some obnoxiously large orders of fish and chips and ate them on a bench in town, chatting about our trips past and future plans. We wandered back through the rest of the town, stopping for a glass of cider before heading to the train station so I could make my way back to Brixton for the night. Another incredible day in southeast England. 

Wednesday yielded far fewer activities, with the only notable item being a cup of tea and cake at a small cafe in the Brixton market. This was mostly notable because the young barista was babysitting a cool English lad of about 7 who was making conversation with everyone who came into the shop asking what we thought of his drawing and what we were doing in the store. Quite a cool little fellow, and chatting with them made for a pleasant day.

Bucket lists were meant to be completed, and Thursday provided me with an opportunity to get closer by checking off yet another item on the list: a tennis Grand Slam event. And, of course, the only one of those hosted in the London area in early July is the Championships Wimbledon. So, I found myself up at the crack of dawn, with sandwiches and crackers in hand , and hopped on the bus at 5:30 in the morning bound for the All England Lawn and Tennis Club. Wimbledon is one of the few major sporting events that sells a large block of tickets on the day of the match on a first-come, first-served basis. So I joined the queue and waited for three hours for the gates to open, getting a big chunk of reading done in the meantime. Once we finally made it to the head of the queue and forked over our 16 pounds to enter and watch "Women's Semi Finals Day" at Wimbledon, we still had a few hours to kill. And, as we all milled around the grounds, I almost ran into a petit young lady carrying a tennis bag. As I dodged her I noted that she looked like she was probably a player heading to her match and I thought that it was cool that players shared the space with spectators and were not all shuttled directly into and out of their matches. As the day progressed, I enjoyed a few matches from Henman Hill, the large slope outside Court 1 with a giant projector for viewing the most in-demand matches and even went into a few of the smaller courts for some matches as well. In the afternoon, as I was on Henman Hill watching the second Women's Singles semi-final, I realized that I recognized one of the players as the lady I almost ran into that morning. And it was none other than Marion Bartoli, the future champion. A more astute tennis fan would have recognized her, as she was ranked number 15 in the world, having previously been in the top 10. Needless to say, at that moment she became my favorite to win the tournament, as she successfully won her match that afternoon. As the afternoon was coming to an end, I heaeded to Court 2 to watch the first set of legends Martina Hingis and Lindsey Davenport's Doubles match. That was all I had left in the tank after 13 hours at Wimbledon, and I headed back to Brixton for the evening.

And, just like that, my stay in London was over. Friday was to be my last in the Isles and London, so I took the opportunity to go for another wander. First stop was back in north london and past St. Pancras, where I passed the Camden Market I had visited a few days earlier. I walked around the market again, sleepy on this Friday afternoon, and continued on to Regent's Park where I enjoyed the afternoon sunshine, and also where I stumbled upon folks prepping for a movie shoot. They were just putting down the rails for the moving camera as I passed through, and continued onward to Primrose Hill across the street for a glorious view of the London skyline from the north, including a fabulous view of the Shard, the newest and tallest building to grace--or tarnish, depending on your view--the skyline. Then came my final destination, and the one I had been most excited for in my entire trip to London: the musical holy ground that is Abbey Road studios and the famous crosswalk just outside. I knew I had arrived when I saw the hoards of tourists walking too slowly across a random crosswalk in London. I had heard that locals were accommodating of the tourists trying to take pictures of the crosswalk, but they certainly were not on that hot and sunny day in London. Instead, they breezed through and grudgingly stopped every time a group of tourists tried to cross the road and pose. As we all joined the queue and snuck into the intersection when we could, we snapped our pics and headed on our way. I stopped outside the studios and to stand in awe and reverence at the musical history that had been achieved in those very studios; the pictures of all of the Fab Four arriving to the studio in their cars amid the paparazzi and hearing the the tracks of Dark Side of the Moon and imagining being present for the recordings in those very studios. After a good bit of daydreaming, and seeing the ominous No Entrance signs, I decided to head back to Paddington Station, collect my things and grab a sweaty and crowded Underground out to Heathrow to end my English adventure en route to my next, and final non-USA destination: Iceland!