August 16th, 2004

profile new

There are words, they just aren't enough...

London is the kind of place I could stay a very, very long time. If I'd had the money or the opportunity I would not have got on that plane yesterday. Unfortunately, I did get on the plane and here I am, back at work. I'm exhasted, but I really wouldn't change anything about my trip. Going to London was one of a handful of dreams of mine, and I'm proud of myself for making it happen.

The whole weekend seemed a little like a daydream - it was as if at any moment I might wake up and find myself not really there at all. From my first glimpse of the city, emerging from the Underground Station, I was unbelievably happy. I was in London - a place featured in half the books I've read (and that's a lot of books). And there were all of these beautiful buildings and important places and I was a little in awe (and a little disorientated, since I'd been up for nearly 36 hours at that point). It was wonderful.

I didn't do anything novel or earth-shattering. I was a tourist. I went to Westminster Abbey to pay my respects to my favorite British authors. I went to nearly all the bookstores on Charing Cross Road. I went to the British Museum to see the Elgin marbles and the Rosetta Stone and the mummified druid someone pulled out of a peat bog in the seventies. I ate some truly horrible food, got blisters on my feet, and got hit on by a sandwich shop employee. I got lost in the City, in Southwark, and in Soho. I didn't sleep much. I got rained on in St. James Square. I think I saw Tiffany, of 80's pop star fame, in Covent Garden (if it wasn't her it was a hell of a look alike). And I saw a girl in white fur leg warmers walking down the street - as if she didn't look like the lovechild of an eskimo and a ho.

I can't wait to go back.
  • Current Mood
    tired tired