"I know that I am honored to be witness of so much majesty" -Sara Teasdale (by way of Ēriks Ešenvalds)
The Grand Finale of my big ol' EuroTrip was the one place I'd actually visited before, London. I think it was an excellent place to end. I mean, hey, at last an English-speaking country! Although as Georgios pointed out, it is one of the most diverse cities in the world. It is also apparently uniquely situated to be the financial capital of the world, since its business day intersects with both the Asian and American business days, so they get essentially double the market of anyone else. This One Guy said they do like 3 trillion dollars of transactions a day. I found that fascinating.
But anyway, we took the Eurostar train, AKA the chunnel, from Paris into London, which travels very fast and only took like 2 hours. And look what platform our train arrived into:
How appropriate for London.
We made our way to the hostel to drop our bags off since it was too early to check in, then headed to lunch. A group of us walked about a block to a take-out Indian place and got various curries and masalas and whatnot. Ate it back at the hostel. Checked in. Got our metro cards. The standard. Pretty used to the routine by this point. Isn't it odd how even in constant travel, changing languages and cultures every two or so days, we can still fall into routine?
Brief walking tour of London followed next, just to get our bearings in the city. Most of it I remembered. Picadilly Circus. Trafalgar Square. Yep yep, good good.
Journeyed as far as Big Ben/Westminster before splitting off into subgroups again.
I'm sure everyone knows this by now, but it's one of Londoners' favorite gotcha facts: Big Ben is not the clock tower. Big Ben is the bell. File that away for the next time you're a panelist on QI.
We actually had really excellent weather in London - bright and sunny, but not too warm like Paris, all the way until the morning we left. A welcome surprise.
Roughly half of us had signed up for a Harry Potter tour, which I thought sounded cool, but wasn't really sure what it would be. Turns out it was essentially just a standard walking tour of London, but through the lens of Harry Potter. So when we walked to the Millennium Bridge, for instance, we did so because "this is the bridge the Death Eaters blow up in the sixth film!" and not because it's, you know, a landmark.
Some artist has taken to drawing little graffities on dried chewing gum:
But anyway, the tour was neat. Saw the actual storefront where they filmed exterior shots of the Leaky Cauldron. Saw the block that inspired the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley. And we ended, of course, at King's Cross, where they've set up a little platform 9 and 3/4 with a shopping cart rammed into the wall for people to take photos next to. Didn't stand in line for that myself. Did take a picture of where the tour guide said the "real" platform entrance would be if it weren't, you know, fictional:
And that was that for Harry Potter. Next on our list: the Big Night Out London Pub Crawl!!!!!!
I was fortunate enough to have one of my hostel roommates on the Harry Potter tour but not going on the pub crawl so I could give him my backpack to take back to the room and finally, for the first time on the trip, not be the guy up in the club wearing a freakin backpack. But it also meant no iPad and thus, no pictures. And I can't think of a single place, especially not on Facebook, where any pictures of that night might be. Ohhhh well. Whattaya gonna do?
The Pub Crawl was really great, though, and I say this as someone who was very tired of drinking by this point on the trip. We got little laminated cards that we could exchange for a "free" (paid for) shot, then of course we were free to buy any additional drinks we wanted, then after about an hour the pub crawl organizers would corral us up and march us on over to the next place, rinse, repeat. Total of five pubs.
Also, they gave us a t-shirt and markers so we could write dumb stuff all over it during the night. I was glad they gave us the shirt, because it was the only thing even remotely clean for me to wear two days later on the plane home. The markers and drunk people using them, though, meant I would need to wear a jacket over it when that day came.
We met another group from the same travel company on the pub crawl who were on their first night of a London, Paris, and Barcelona tour. They at the beginning, us at the end. Felt like passing the baton.
It was the 3rd of July - although it became the 4th by the end of the pub crawl - and there were American flags everywhere at these pubs, which sort of surprised me. I figure either they have fun celebrating despite it not being their holiday - like we do with Cinco de Mayo - or, more cynically (and more likely) - they're just pandering to who they know is going to be their customer base.
A bunch of people from our group had left after the third pub, for some unimaginable reason, so it was just a small contingent left by the time we were ready to go. Caught a red double-decker bus or two and followed someone's Google Maps bearings to get back to the hostel. Fell asleep. Apparently I abandoned Sam at the last pub. Sorry Sam.
The next morning was another bus tour, like Paris, but this tour guide was decidedly livelier, so it went much better. It was also interspersed with getting out and getting coffee, so...yeah. Think they got a better design for their tour. Went up to this rooftop shopping complex place:
Here's the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral:
And here's the Globe Theater:
Didn't see a play there but...I did take a photo of it!!
Ended the tour by going to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guard:
With their ridiculous hats.
Before the local guide departed, I asked her about the evensong services held both at St. Paul's and at Westminster Abbey. I went to the one at Westminster back in...2009? Whenever I was here with my family years ago, and as a fan of choral music, I definitely wanted to go to one again with what I assumed would be a renewed appreciation. She told me they were both at 5:00 in the evening, but that I needed to arrive early to get a good seat.
After the tour and the changing of the guards was over, a few of us crossed through this park to go find a pizza place somebody knew about or had heard about or something. Using Google Maps got us pretty close, but we couldn't find it despite being right on the dot. So we asked the first passerby where it was.
"Oh it used to be here, but they closed a few years ago". Welp.
We went anyway. It was now burgers instead of pizza, but still delicious.
We rode the bus out to this area with some like shops and touristy things, which as you know is my favorite thing ever. So I said goodbye to the group and headed out on my own. My intention was to see some of the museums, which in London are all 100% free, but with subway rides and needing to fill something out online for the travel company, I basically got to go into the National Gallery, use their wifi, and leave. Oh well. Pretty sure I've been there before anyway. Either that or the British Museum. Whatever.
I had to leave early enough to get a good seat for evensong. I had decided to go to the one at St. Paul's, since I'd done Westminster before. Figured out my subway route, figured out where to go from the stop. Got to the cathedral and saw people going in a side entrance, so I figured that was it. Turns out I had gone into the basement, which is where like their cafe and whatnot is. But while I was down there, I could hear the great booming organ and choir from above, which was confusing since it was only about 4:15 at that point. I wondered if my guide had gotten the time wrong. Went back outside and around front to ask if the service had started yet.
"Oh, we're not doing evensong tonight, it's cancelled for a special service."
DAMN it!
I made my way back to the subway station, desperately trying to connect the many convoluted dots that would lead me to Westminster, and decided I might as well go for broke. Got about halfway to my destination and - yep, you guessed it - got on the wrong train. In my defense, it was one of those trains where two lines merge into one for a few stops, so I assumed it didn't matter which one I got on. Guess they showed me!!!
I only went one stop before realizing my error, but it cost me crucial minutes that I didn't have. Switched back to the correct line and finished my journey. Power-walked over to the abbey, trying to find the correct door to go in. Had I not done this before, I might not have found it, but luckily I had hazy memory to rely on!
Went up to the man in the silly costume at the gate. He asked if I was here for the service, I said yes, and he directed me in. Inside, more funnily-dressed people guided me down toward the front where the service itself was happening. Had to wait for a pause in the singing to take my seat. Got there maybe 5:10. I wasn't the last one to arrive, though, which made me feel better. Well, at least until the end of the evensong when I picked up a program left on one of the seats to find that the only piece I had missed was Tallis's If Ye Love Me. What!!! That's my favorite!!!
But it was lovely nonetheless, and for anyone else whose childhood was steeped in high Anglican tradition like mine was, it's an opportunity not to be missed.
I had arranged to meet everyone else at the restaurant for that night's farewell dinner rather than return to the hostel since, with the evensong, I would never have made it back in time. I got there first, sweaty, tired, backpack on, and waited. Moments later, everyone else showed up, clean, fresh, and dressed to the nines. So it goes.
After so many nice dinners along the way on this trip, the food itself at this final place failed to impress, but the event itself was great. Got to hang out with everyone one last time. At Georgios's insistence, every single person stood up and made a toast one by one. I don't honestly remember what I said but if I had to guess I'd say it was moving, cinematic, emotional, and indescribably poetic. Then, last but not least, Georgios himself stood to give his final toast, and in true Georgios fashion, dispensed a bit of wisdom:
"It's not where you travel to, but who you travel with." Well said Georgios, well said. And I can't be sure, but I think there may have been a "yes or yes?" Somewhere in there too.
Back at the hostel, Bri had too many bottles of wine to take home, and needed our help in dispensing of a few of them, which we were only too happy to oblige. Sadly, the patio area at the hostel closed, and there was no drinking in the lobby, so eventually we resorted to sitting bunched up on the long wheelchair ramp in front of the bulding, passing around the bottles, telling stories, hanging out. One by one people peeled off to go to bed or head downtown for one last raucous night out. The group got smaller and quieter, and eventually - when there were maybe a half dozen of us left - dissolved altogether.
The next morning it was grey and rainy, which is the typical London weather. Our transport to the airport was a hired driver taking a group every hour, so half of the people were gone by the time I woke up, and the other half were asleep. I rode with the Alaska girls to Heathrow, then lost sight of them checking in and going through security. Boarded my flight. Flew to Minneapolis. Finished watching Interstellar on the way. It was kinda cool being in Minneapolis again so soon. This was my last stop on the last trip I took! I remember that Carribou!
What was weird was that it felt like the right time - like, time of day - back in America. I had boarded my flight at around noon in London and spent 8 hours on the plane, but it felt like it should be about 3:30 in the afternoon when I landed. Guess my internal clock was just as ready to be back as I was.
And I guess that makes it sound like I didn't enjoy the trip, which is of course untrue. I know I'm quite lucky and fortunate to have been able to go on a trip like this. The last couple posts made it seem like more work than play, but I really did have the time of my life. I got to see a hell of a lot of amazing places and check off quite a few items from my bucket list. I've now been to all of the Big Five European countries (supplemented by my youth group pilgrimage to Spain in high school). I've seen Venice, I've seen Amsterdam, I've seen the Swiss Alps. And with this introductory Euro-tour out of the way, the door is wide open for further exploration on my own.
But constantly moving will wear on anyone. Not having clean clothes or a shower to yourself will wear on anyone. And the feeling that you have to fill your time, all the time, is mentally exhausting. Even when you had free time on this trip, it wasn't really "free" so much as "self-guided". How could I go back to the hotel and rest when this is my last day in Paris, or in Italy? Sure, it will wear me out, but I can't come all the way here and not see the sights!
So you get worn out. It happened to me. But I saw what I wanted to see and had all kinds of fun, and from this vantage point, more than two weeks on the other side of it, it was beyond worth it. What I'm happy to say, too, is that I don't miss it. A lot of times after a trip I have this ache to still be there, but for this I didn't, and I think that's because I got everything out of it that I wanted to. The ache comes from the regret of what I didn't accomplish, and when there's no regret, there's no ache.
Lydia was nice enough to drive me home from the Louisville airport once I got in at around 8:30 PM. Hit the bed pretty much as soon as I walked into my apartment. Went back to work the next day. Surreal quickly shifted back into being routine. But I rested, recuperated, and recharged. And slowly but surely, the itch to travel is coming back. I read about far off places. I whizz around Google Earth intently. I wake up on empty days wondering where I could make it to and from by nightfall.
And before you know it, I'll be off again.
